"Wilhelmina Lee!" she exclaimed angrily.
Miss Billy raised a moist and somewhat grimy face.
"What are you doing?" inquired Her sister.
"Mending the walk," answered Miss Billy, articulating with some difficulty, for her mouth was full of nails.
"Well I should think you'd be ashamed," said Beatrice with spirit.
"I regret to say that I am a trifle ashamed," said Billy, removing the nails. "I have a miserable kind of false pride that fills me with dread lest any one of the Blanchard type see me doing honest labour. That's why I put this apron on,—for a disguise, you know."
"You needn't worry about concealing your identity," responded Beatrice angrily. "Nobody in the world but you would come out in full view of the public to make an exhibition of herself."
Miss Billy turned to her childish audience. "The public don't seem to be shocked," she said.
"If mother were home——" began Beatrice.