And then she turned on her heel and left them.
“Whew!” said Marcia. “I don’t see how you kept your temper, Dolly. If she’d said half as much to me as she did to you, I never could have stood it, I can tell you! Whatever did she mean by what she said just then about knowing more than we thought?”
“I don’t know,” said Dolly, rather anxiously. “But look here, Marcia, I might as well tell you now. There’s likely to be a good deal of excitement here.”
“Yes,” said Bessie, rather bitterly. “And it’s all my fault–mine and Zara’s, that is.”
“I don’t see what you can mean,” said Marcia, mystified.
“Well, it’s quite a long story, but I really think you’d better know all about it, Marcia,” said Dolly.
And so, with occasional help from Bessie herself, when Dolly forgot something, or when Bessie’s ideas disagreed with hers, Dolly poured the story of the adventures of Bessie and Zara since their flight from Hedgeville into Marcia’s ears.
“Why, I never heard of such a thing!” Marcia exclaimed, when the story was told. “So that fire last night wasn’t an accident at all?”
“We’re quite sure it wasn’t, Marcia. And don’t you think it looks as if we were right?”
“It certainly does, and I think it’s dreadful, Dolly–just dreadful. Oh, Bessie, I am so sorry for you!”