"I don't like them very," answered the little Swedish widow.
"Mis' Adlerfeld puts it politely." laughed Miss Crilly. "I'll tell you what they are, they are like the little girl in the rhyme—with a difference,—
'When they're bad, they're very, very bad,
And when they're good, they're horrid!'"
"I heard you couldn't have any company except one afternoon a week," resumed Miss Mullaly, after the laughing had ceased,—"not anybody at all."
"Sure!" returned Miss Crilly. "Wednesday afternoon, from three to five, is the only time you can entertain your best feller."
"Why, Polly Dudley was here Thursday morning!"
"Now you've got me!" admitted Miss Crilly. "She's a privileged character. She runs over any blessed minute she wants to."
"And she brings her friends with her," added Miss
Castlevaine,—"David Collins and his greataunt's daughter,—Leonora
Jocelyn,—Patricia Illingworth, and Chris Morrow, and that girl
they call Lilith, besides the Stickney boys up in Foxford—huh!"
"She must be pretty bold, when it's against the rule," observed
Miss Mullaly.
"No," dissented Mrs. Albright, "it isn't boldness. Polly runs in as naturally as a kitten. The rest don't come so very often. I shouldn't say they'd let 'em; but they do."