To her surprise, Delight began to cry,—not noisily,—but with quiet, steady weeping, that seemed to imply a determination to keep it up.
Marjorie looked her amazement, which was not lessened when Mrs. Spencer said, almost coldly:
"I should think she would cry, poor, dear sick child, when her little friend refuses to stay with her."
"But, Mrs. Spencer," said Midget, really distressed, now, "it is our rule always to go home at five o'clock, unless mother has said we could stay later. So I have to go."
"Very well, then, go on," said Mrs. Spencer, a little pettishly; but she helped Marjorie on with her coat, and patted her on the shoulder.
"You're a good little girl," she said, "and I suppose I'm selfish where
Delight is concerned. Will you come again to-morrow morning?"
"Oh, no, thank you; I have to go to school."
"Yes, I suppose you do. Well, come to-morrow afternoon."
"Yes, do," said Delight, staying her tears, as they seemed to do no good.
"I'll see about it," said Midget, a little bewildered by these emotional people. "I'd like to come."