“Grind, Fred?”
But Fred had turned away, and did not, apparently, hear his father’s grieved question.
Mr. Smith learned all about the vacation plans a day or two later from Benny.
“Yep, we’re all goin’ away for all summer,” he repeated, after he had told the destination of most of the family. “I don’t think ma wants to, much, but she’s goin’ on account of Bess. Besides, she says everybody who is anybody always goes away on vacations, of course. So we’ve got to. They’re goin’ to the beach first, and I’m goin’ to a boys’ camp up in Vermont—Mellicent, she’s goin’ to a girls’ camp. Did you know that?”
Mr. Smith shook his head. “Well, she is,” nodded Benny. “She tried to get Bess to go—Gussie Pennock’s goin’. But Bess!—my you should see her nose go up in the air! She said she wa’n’t goin’ where she had to wear great coarse shoes an’ horrid middy-blouses all day, an’ build fires an’ walk miles an’ eat bugs an’ grasshoppers.”
“Is Miss Mellicent going to do all that?” smiled Mr. Smith.
“Bess says she is—I mean, Elizabeth. Did you know? We have to call her that now, when we don’t forget it. I forget it, mostly. Have you seen her since she came back?”
“No.”
“She’s swingin’ an awful lot of style—Bess is. She makes dad dress up in his swallow-tail every night for dinner. An’ she makes him and Fred an’ me stand up the minute she comes into the room, no matter if there’s forty other chairs in sight; an’ we have to stay standin’ till she sits down—an’ sometimes she stands up a-purpose, just to keep us standing. I know she does. She says a gentleman never sits when a lady is standin’ up in his presence. An’ she’s lecturin’ us all the time on the way to eat an’ talk an’ act. Why, we can’t even walk natural any longer. An’ she says the way Katy serves our meals is a disgrace to any civilized family.”
“How does Katy like that?”