“Kitty, how can you!” Debby cried. “Blue Bonnet! surely you don’t mean that you—”
“Will you please go away!” Blue Bonnet broke in.
“I hope you don’t think we intend staying?” Kitty answered. “Perhaps you are wise not to risk being sent to Mr. Hunt a second time.”
One swift, upward flash, Blue Bonnet could not help, then she sat quite still looking down at the book lying open on the desk before her, with unseeing eyes. She was determined that she would not cry.
It seemed as if noontime would never come; she hated the big, busy schoolroom and—everybody in it; at least, nearly everybody! Girls were—detestable. A boy wouldn’t have said a thing like that. If Uncle Cliff could know how mean Kitty had been. One thing was sure—they could never be friends again.
“My dear,” Mrs. Clyde asked, as Blue Bonnet came in to lunch, “what has happened?”
Blue Bonnet tossed her coat and hat on to the lounge, and pushed back her hair from her hot face. “Everything has happened!”
“My dear—”
“And I can’t tell you what it is, Grandmother. I wish I’d never seen the old academy! I can’t think how anyone likes going to school!”
“But I hoped that the trouble was over, Blue Bonnet.”