Mabel flushed up to the roots of her hair. “I don’t know,” she faltered.
“Oh, isn’t that mean?” cried Ethel. “You said you knew she’d give it, Marie.”
“Maybe she has to ask her mother,” said Marie, trying to help Mabel out of her difficulty.
“No, I——but I’m saving up for something else,” said Mabel, hesitatingly.
“Oh, but nothing could be better than this. Of course it’s nice to give to missions and—all sorts of things, but you know we don’t often have a war, or anything like this, and it’s immejet,” announced Marie with some importance.
Mabel looked distressed. “I think, maybe, mamma can tell me about what I’d better do,” she said at last.
“Well, just tell me this:” Ethel said; “Is it for any charity thing that you want to save the money?”
Mabel shook her head.
“Then I think you’re real mean,” declared Ethel, with a toss of her head as she flounced away. “Let’s go and get someone else to join us, Marie. We thought you’d be glad that we picked you out the first one, Miss Mabel, but we don’t want anyone who grudges those poor orphans.”
Mabel watched them depart whispering, and looking back at her contemptuously, and felt very much inclined to cry, but just then the bell rang for school, and she went to her seat, feeling bitterly all the afternoon, because of the little scornful flouts and tosses of the head which Ethel gave every time she looked her way.