"Ugly—horrid—hideous—old—thing! I hate it!" It was not, of course, the brown poplin alone she hated! The offending shoes followed the brown dress. "I hate everything about me! I wish—I wish—to-morrow would never come! I wish——" Jerry threw herself face downward upon her bed. "I wish I—was—home!"
CHAPTER XI
AUNT MARIA
"A letter from Aunt Maria," announced Graham, appearing at the door of his mother's little sitting room, a large, square lavender envelope in his hand. He carried it gingerly between a thumb and finger, and as far as he could from his upturned nose, "I'd suggest, mother, that you put on my gas-mask before you open it!"
Gyp and Tibby laughed uproariously at his wit. Mrs. Westley reached for the envelope.
"Poor Aunt Maria, she must be so glad that the war is over and she can get her favorite French sachet."
Isobel perched herself upon the arm of her mother's chair.
"Hurry, read it, mother."
"I'll bet she's coming to visit us," groaned Gyp.