When the intermission came Mr. Somers deliberately took a seat again beside Lyddy.
“Well, I never!” shrilled Sairy. “Some folks are as bold as brass. Humph!”
Now, as it happened, both Lyddy and the school teacher were quite ignorant of the stir they were creating. The green-eyed monster roared right in their ears without either of them being the wiser. Lyddy was only sorry that Sairy Pritchett proved to be such a loud-talking and rather unladylike person.
But ’Phemie, who was younger, and observant, soon saw what was the matter. She wished to warn Lyddy, but did not know how to do so. And, of course, she knew her sister and the school teacher were talking of quite impersonal things.
These girls expected everybody to be of their own calibre. ’Phemie had seen the same class of girls in her experience in the millinery shop. But it was quite impossible for Lyddy to understand such people, her experience with young girls at school and college not having prepared her for the outlook on life which these country girls had.
’Phemie turned to Lucas–who stuck to her like a limpet to a rock–for help.
“Lucas,” she said, “you have been very kind to bring us here; but I want to ask you to take us home early; will you?”
“What’s the matter–ye ain’t sick; be you?” demanded the anxious young farmer.
“No. But your sister is,” said ’Phemie, unable to treat the matter with entire seriousness.
“Sairy?”