“Oh, I’m quite all right,” said the little girl brightly. “I’m not the least bit sick.”
Here was the cloven hoof of Christian Science again, thought her aunt darkly; the child had been coached, no doubt! It was a great pity if that rigmarole was going to be taken up by Alice and Roy to make them all miserable!
“Well, I think I wouldn’t eat candy till to-morrow,” advised Jeannette. “What I think you need is a good dose of castor-oil,” she added firmly with a glance at her sister. “But here,—I have something here, I know you’ll like much better,” she went on, searching in her bag. She brought to light a gold-colored, metal pencil about three inches long with a tiny ring at one end, and gave it to the child.
“Oh, thank you, Aunt Janny,—thank you awfully,” cried the invalid, immediately beginning to experiment with the cap which, in turning, shortened or lengthened the lead.
“Where’s Etta?”
“Gone to church,” Alice replied.
“Heavens! ... What for?” Jeannette turned inquiring eyes upon the girl’s mother. It was not that she lacked sympathy with any religious observance on her niece’s part, but church-going for Etta was unusual. The younger children were sent dutifully to Sunday school but the rest of the family were rather casual about attending divine services. Alice smiled significantly in answer to the query, elevated a shoulder, and indulged in a slight head-shake.
“I suppose that means a boy again,” Jeannette said, interpreting the look and gesture. “Doesn’t she see enough of them afternoons and evenings? I declare, Alice, I don’t know what you’re going to do with that girl. Yesterday afternoon, all she could talk about was the movies, and she even stopped me in front of a photographer’s show-case to ask me if I didn’t think a man in it was perfectly stunning! ... He was old enough to be her father!”
“Well, all the girls are like that nowadays.”
“It was decidedly different when we were that age.”