"Suit yourself, child," returned Miss Barry kindly. "We shall miss you at supper."
Linda vanished up the stairs and Miss Barry went out to the kitchen, where she found her maid with a very red little nose and extremely dolorous wet eyes.
"What are you crying for, Blanche Aurora?" she demanded.
"'Cause—'cause she did." A loud sniff.
"You've been listening," said Miss Barry sternly.
The little girl fairly stamped in her outraged feeling.
"I guess you ain't got no business to say that," she returned, and the honest wrath of her gaze caused her mistress to clear her throat.
"Well, well, I don't suppose you did. Miss Linda has a friend who is ill."
"He's a-goin' to drown himself, that's what," gulped Blanche Aurora, the relief of speech overbalancing her righteous wrath.
"What do you mean, you crazy child?"