“Elizabeth!” she exclaimed.
“I can’t find my purse, Grandmother.” Blue Bonnet did not turn around.
“Your purse?”
“I want to send a telegram to Uncle Cliff. I—I’m going home.”
Mrs. Clyde sat down on the lounge. “You are going home!”
“Yes, Grandmother.” Blue Bonnet had found her purse at last, and was hurriedly counting its contents. “Uncle Cliff told me I had only to send word and—and—” Dropping suddenly into a chair, Blue Bonnet hid her face in her hands. The last barrier her pride had raised had fallen, broken down by that scene of the morning. Her one thought now was to go back. Back to the ranch, where there were no explanations to be made; no Miss Rankins to be displeased with one; no principals to be sent to. She hated it here in the East—hated the life and all it stood—Blue Bonnet caught herself up, remembering the last time she had used those same words.
“Elizabeth,” her grandmother asked, “what has happened?”
Blue Bonnet wiped her eyes impatiently. “Miss Rankin has behaved horridly; and I—came home; I’m never going back!”—the words came punctuated with sobs.
“And what had you done, Elizabeth, to occasion such behavior on the part of Miss Rankin?”
“I—intended to explain. She—wouldn’t listen. She said I—must go to—Mr. Hunt!” Blue Bonnet’s head went down again; the memory of that moment’s humiliation was too much for her.