“And a cup of tea!” interposed Beth, laughing. “No more of that, Molly—if you love me. In the language of my younger brothers, ‘forget it!’”
“But it isn’t to be forgotten. And I told them all after you came away last night——”
“Now, Molly dear, if you tell so much you’ll be completely empty and will collapse—sure,” declared Beth, laughing.
“But, Beth!”
“But, Molly!” mocked Beth.
“Don’t you care, Beth Baldwin?” cried Molly.
“If I do, I don’t want to wear the martyr’s crown,” and Beth smiled. “Come, my dear! ‘What can’t be cured must be endured.’ And it had better be endured cheerfully—don’t you think?”
“But it can be cured, I tell you!” cried Molly, very much excited. “Do you suppose the really nice girls of Rivercliff are going to allow a little clique of stuck-up things to insult and abuse a girl who has positively done no wrong? We think too much of our school itself to allow such a blot to stand——”
“That sounds very fine, dear,” said Beth, calmly, “although your metaphor is hazy. And it is awfully nice of you and your friends to stand up for me. But there is something to be said on the other side, I guess.”
“On whose side—yours?”