"Well, he's got to go to the station for your cousin."
"My cousin?"
"Yes, miss. A telegram came this afternoon that she'd be here at six-thirty, and your mother left word when she went out that they wouldn't be much later than that getting back from the train."
"Well, I never! The idea of her coming without any one's expecting her. Why didn't she write?"
"I don't know, miss. I heard something about a letter that got lost, but anyway your mother's gone to meet Miss Julia, and she left word she thought you'd better give up going to the tableaux this evening, for she wouldn't like you to leave your cousin alone."
"There, Belle, that's the way it's always going to be. Everything for 'Miss Julia.' I don't care, I'm going out just the same. The idea of losing those tableaux."
"But, Brenda," began Belle.
"No, it isn't any good arguing with me. I never could bear to be interfered with, and mamma knows perfectly well that I want to see 'The Succession of the Seasons.'"
"But it's to be repeated to-morrow evening. You know I'm going then."
"I don't care. I hate to go the second night to anything."