“Young ladies’ hair does come down sometimes,” said Rupert; “when it’s long enough.”
“Mine never shall,” said Nettie emphatically.
“Don’t do it yourself, then,” said Cherry.
“If Nettie ever takes to horrid, affected, flirting ways,” said Jack, who had joined the party, “I for one shall have nothing more to say to her.”
“You don’t admire flirts, Jack?” said Rupert.
“I don’t approve of them,” said Jack crossly.
“Oh, come, come, now, Jack, that’s very severe.”
“Poor Jack!” said Cherry; “he speaks from personal experience. There was that heartless girl last summer, who, after hours of serious conversation with him, went off to play croquet with Tom Hubbard, and gave him a moss-rose-bud. Poor Jack! it was a blow; he can’t recover from it! It has affected all his views of life, you see.”
“Poor fellow!” said Rupert, as Jack forcibly stopped Cherry’s mouth; “I’d no notion it was a personal matter. Will she be at the ball?”
“No; you see, we avoided asking her.”