This was exactly what Maggie had said.
“Very well; you are always objecting to what I do, and the way I do it. I wish you would go and do things yourself. You think of nothing but yourself, or some young man you are after. I wouldn't do what you did yesterday. I wouldn't go sneaking round the garden with a young man I had never seen before.”
Maggie shrugged her shoulders and went on dressing. Sally, who had taken a seat on the bed, watched her. She thought how she might best pursue the quarrel, but her stomach called her thoughts from her sister, and she said: “I don't know how you feel, but I am dying of hunger. What time is it now?”
“Nine o'clock.”
“Another half-hour. I suppose he won't start before the half-hour.”
“Miss,” said the maid, knocking at the door, “Mr. Brookes wants to know if you are coming down to breakfast.”
“Say that we are not nearly ready; that there's no use waiting for us.”
“I think I had better go back to my room,” said Sally.
“I think you had. I wish you wouldn't bring that horrid little dog into my room. She made a mess here the other day.”
“That I am sure she didn't. Flossie is the cleanest dog in the world.”