"Oh, Rosey, how could you, you wretch; poor Muriel!" Phyllis tried not to laugh, but gave up and joined the rest.
Rosamond turned them down one of the side streets abruptly.
"Where are you going?" Eleanor demanded. "I want to go home; I'm hungry."
"Now don't be absurd," Rosamond admonished. "You can eat any old time, but it isn't often that you can see what I am going to show you."
"Oh, now what are you up to?" Eleanor protested, but Rosamond only pointed to the corner of the next avenue and told them to watch.
"Aunt Jane's poll parrot, Muriel!" Sally was the first to see that the girl and boy approaching them was their classmate and her friend. They would soon meet.
"I'll giggle, I know I will," Eleanor warned them. "Rosey, it's all your fault. Let's turn around."
"Never," Rosamond protested. "Just walk like little ladies and bow politely when they pass," she said with a ridiculous primness that was exactly like the art teacher at school.
They walked; there was nothing else to do; and Muriel and the boy beside her came toward them, deep in conversation. It was noticeable that Muriel was doing most of the talking.
When they were even with them, Rosamond bowed formally and in a high and very affected voice she exclaimed,