"Now, Hester, don't be silly! You have just as good a home and just as kind friends as I have."
"No, I haven't! Nobody likes me. And everybody likes you. Why, the Craig boys think you're made of gold!"
Marjorie laughed. "Well, Hester, it's your own fault if they don't think you are, too. But how can they, when you fly into these rages and tear everything to pieces?"
"Well, they make me so mad, I have to! Now, I'm going home, and I'm going to stay there till you do as you promised, and get the boys to let me be Queen."
"Well, I'll try——" began Marjorie, but Hester had flung the torn gilt crown on the ground, and stalked away toward home. Midget picked up the crown and tried to straighten it out, but it was battered past repair.
"I'll make a new one," she thought, "and I'll try to make the boys agree to having Hester for Queen. But I don't believe Tom will. I know it's selfish for me to be Queen all the time, and I don't want to be selfish."
Seeing Hester go away, Tom came back, and reached Sand Court just as Midget was about to leave.
"Hello, Queen Sandy!" he called out; "wait a minute. I saw that spitfire going away, so I came back. Now, look here, Mopsy Maynard, don't you let that old crosspatch be Queen!"
"I can't, unless we all elect her," returned Midget, smiling at Tom; "but I wish you would agree to do that. It isn't fair, Tom, for me to be Queen all the time."
"Why isn't it? It's your Club! You got it up, and Hester came and poked herself in where she wasn't wanted."