"I should think, by the way you put it, that they were the measles or the whooping cough! We do have them, Cordelia—in the winter, specially, but not so often in July. Besides, they don't feel much like this little breeze—as you'd soon find out, if you happened to be in one."
For a moment there was silence; then Genevieve spoke again.
"See here, where'd you find out all these things about Texas—that we didn't have butter, and did have Northers?"
Before Cordelia could answer, Tilly interposed with a chuckling laugh:
"I'll tell you, Genevieve, just where they found out," she cut in, utterly ignoring her own share of the "they." "Now, listen! How do you suppose they spent all the time you were in New Jersey? I'll tell you. They were digging up Texas every single minute; and they dug, and dug, and dug, until there wasn't a mean annual temperature, or a mean anything else that they didn't drag from its hiding-place and hold up triumphantly, and shout: 'Behold, this is Texas!'"
"Girls—you didn't!" cried Genevieve, choking with laughter.
"They did!" affirmed Tilly.
"Yes, we did—including Tilly," declared Cordelia, with unexpected spirit.
Everybody laughed this time, but it was Alma, the peacemaker, who spoke next.
"Oh, look—look at the sun!" she exclaimed. "Aren't those rose-pink clouds gorgeous?"