But would that disagreeable Miss Crevey consent to the exchange? Jacqueline asked herself the question with a sinking heart, about the time she reached the gap in the hedge. For Miss Crevey wanted ready money, and Mrs. Enos Trowbridge’s cousin, who had offered cash for Caroline’s ancient beads, would not give it perhaps for beads that were modern.
“Oh, slithy alligators!” groaned Jacqueline, and paused disheartened in the short-cut, while she asked herself: what next!
Then from the swing that hung from a branch of the big elm in the Trowbridge garden, a shrill voice hailed her.
“Hello!” cried Eleanor Trowbridge.
Jacqueline turned and across the rose tangle surveyed the stout child with disfavor.
“’Lo yourself!” she cried.
Eleanor sprang from the swing and came up to the rose tangle, all ready to be entertained.
“Did you want to see Jacqueline?” she asked cheerily, “Well, she isn’t home yet.”
“Don’t I know it, smarty?” Jacqueline answered crossly.
“Smarty yourself!” retorted Eleanor, and turned, but she didn’t walk away.