But Beth only laughed. That the strange girl assumed the right to give orders did not trouble the even temper of Beth Baldwin. She said:
“Cynthia is right, Molly. It is close quarters in here. And please run and see if you haven’t a collar or a collarette that you can spare, and that will help out on this shirt waist I am going to ask Cynthia to wear instead of that brown one.”
“Huh!” grunted Molly.
“My! you girls are awfully particular about the way I look,” Cynthia Fogg declared.
“If you want to go to Rivercliff with us,” Beth said firmly but pleasantly, “you must look neat. Mustn’t she, Molly?”
“Yes indeed!” exclaimed the girl questioned.
“If I look too nice will they think I need the job?” Cynthia asked, bluntly.
“Cracky-me!” ejaculated Molly, losing her momentary “grouch.” “Madam is awfully particular! She’d judge your ability to keep her things neat by the neatness of your own apparel—sure she would!”
She ran away cheerfully to find things in her suitcase to help bedeck the runaway.
“If I could only get to my trunk!” Beth said to Cynthia. “I’ve a hat there that——”