"Pretty way of talking!" snapped Olive ungraciously. "You know you won't have any more money another day than you have this; why couldn't you say no?"
"Say that I couldn't afford it?" cried Ernestine gayly. "Not I. Besides, I reasoned that if one of you would loan me some, I'd have more another day."
"Suppose one of us won't," said Olive, looking darkly over her sister's pretty hat.
"I didn't suppose you would," laughed Ernestine "But fortunately for me, I have some obliging sisters," and with that shot, Ernestine went in, singing like a mocking bird, and Jean followed slowly, looking back once or twice to Olive's motionless figure.
Oh how it cut! Olive grew flushed and white, then her brows came together darkly and her lips shut tight. "Ernestine is too frivolous to live," she said grimly; then looked straight off into the evening sky and was silent. But down to her proud, sensitive heart she was hurt, and in it was the longing wonder, "Why don't she come to me and ask as she does of Bea and the others. I would loan it to her;" but this feeling she fiercely refused to countenance, and shut her heart grimly, as she did her lips.
The broad old hall that ran clear through the house was growing quite dark with shadows; the game of chess had ended, and the players left the window, and presently Olive turned slowly and went into the house. Through the sitting-room came a lively chatter, and as she passed the door some one shouted, "Halloo!"
"Well I'm not deaf. Do you want me?"
"Pining to have you; come sit on my lap."
Olive passed in, but disregarded the hospitably inclined young lady who lounged in a big chair, and passed on to a dusky corner, where she curled up on the lounge.
"Olive," volunteered Kittie, who was in the window-sill, "mama has a plan; she's going to tell us after supper, and we've all been trying to guess what it is; what do you think?"