“Exactly,” laughed Lucile, her face flushing with the memory, “and honors and guardians and races and——”
“Oh, stop her, someone, quick,” begged Jessie gayly. “If you don’t she’ll keep it up all day,” then more gravely, “It was wonderful and none of us will ever forget it—but, Lucy, do, oh, do tell us more about Europe before I die of curiosity!”
“Oh, yes, please go on,” urged Evelyn; “we want to hear all about how it happened, and just when you’re going to start and how long you expect to stay and——”
“Slow up a little,” begged Lucile, in dismay. “I’ll tell you everything in time, but I must have time!”
“Come out, time, you’re wanted,” cried Evelyn, pushing aside the bushes as though in search of the runaway.
“I suppose you think you’re funny,” sniffed Jessie, disdainfully. “But I feel obliged to tell you as a friend——”
“Cease!” commanded Lucile, sternly. “If you don’t stop at once and listen respectfully and attentively to what I have to say, I’ll——”
“Well, what will you do,” Evelyn challenged, with an heroic air of braving the worst. “Tell us, now—what will you do?”
Lucile paused to consider for a moment, then announced, gravely, “There is only one punishment great enough for such a crime——”
“And that——” they breathed.