"Tired out," replied Fanny, "running around calling on sick children."
"I have heard," said Mrs. Darling, "that Miss Wallace spent an evening at the store a few days ago."
"There ain't a word of truth in it!" hotly replied Mrs. Stout. "She went there just for a minute to get Doctor Jones and Mr. Blake the night little Bessie Duncan died. The way such lies travel beats automobiles."
"Oh, of course, I didn't believe it for one moment," simpered Mrs. Darling, "and I wouldn't say a word to injure her for worlds—she's such a lovely girl."
"Girl," said Mrs. Thornton, "she's every day of twenty-five."
"Why!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake, "I wouldn't have believed it."
"Well," drawled Mrs. Stout, "it's a long time since any of us, 'ceptin' Fanny, was that age."
"Mrs. Stout will speak the truth at all times," remarked Mrs. Tweedie, sarcastically.
"Somebody's got to tell it," retorted Mrs. Stout.