“Louise asked me if we sent her that valentine,” Lois said, between sips of lemonade.
“Did you tell her we did?” Polly inquired.
“Yes, I did, because she said it was the sweetest one she’d received, and I just had to let her know that Bet wrote it.”
Betty said: “Oh, shucks, why did you do that?” and changed the subject by asking: “Who do you think will get the prize?”
The answer was cut short as Angela, who was Catharine of Russia, and Connie joined them.
“Well, Lady Macbeth,” Polly greeted them, “have you established your claim to being a real historical character yet?”
“I have, doubter,” Connie answered haughtily. “There was a real Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Baird says so, and, ‘sure she is an honorable man, woman,’ I mean, ‘Therefore, avaunt and quit my sight, let the earth hide thee, and thy base mockery.’”
Angela put her hand over Connie’s mouth. “Don’t mind her, she’s been talking like this all evening,” she said. “Did you get the packages that were in the express-room?”
“Packages, no, where are they?” Polly demanded.
“Why, I saw them before dinner, there were three, just alike, and addressed to you and Lo, and Bet.”