"Well, upon my word, if that isn't cool!" exclaimed Ada, staring at the brown gingham figure.
Alma looked up mildly. She had come to the dressing-room on purpose to eat her lunch where she could look at Lucy Berry, who seemed beautiful to Alma, with her brown eyes, red cheeks, and soft cashmere dress, and it never occurred to her that she could be in the way.
Ada turned to Lucy with a curling lip. "I should hate to be a third party, shouldn't you?" she asked, so significantly that even Alma couldn't help understanding her. Tears started to the big eyes as the little girl dropped her bread back into the hollow depths of the pail, replaced the cover, and went away to find a solitary corner, with a sorer spot in her heart than she had ever known.
"Oh, why did you say that, Ada?" exclaimed Lucy, making a movement as if to slip down from the window-seat and follow.
"Don't you go one step after her, Lucy Berry," commanded Ada. "My mother doesn't want me to associate with the children of the factory people. She'll find plenty of friends of her own kind."
"But you hurt her feelings," protested Lucy.
"Oh, no, I didn't," carelessly; "besides, if I did, she'll forget all about it. I had to let her know that she couldn't stay with us. Do you want a stranger like that to hear everything we're saying?"
"I feel as if I ought to go and find her and see if she has somebody to eat with."
"Very well, Lucy. If you go with her, I can't go with you, that's all. You can take your choice."
The final tone in Ada's voice destroyed Lucy's courage. The little girls were very fond of one another, and Lucy was entirely under strong-willed Ada's influence.