"Pardon me!"—contritely. "I should have remembered that sisters don't belong."
The girl laughed and pushed out one of the pillows. Then she gave me the slipper.
"We'll not haggle over a cobbler's license," she said.
I knelt and put on the slipper. Only one thing marred the completeness of my happiness: the slipper wasn't a blue one.
The girl stood up and shook the folds in her dress, then turned coldly on her brother.
"You are a disgrace to the family, Bob."
"Oh, fudge! Come on along to supper; it's ready, and I'm half starved."
Brothers don't belong, either.
"I wish you luck with the white slipper," said Betty, as she turned to leave. "Call on me soon, and I'll forgive all the past."