“A decidedly bad beginning I should say,” Barbara Severn’s shoulders lifted with a disapproving shrug. “How extremely silly to carry one’s prejudices and resentments to such an extent.”
“It certainly is. Just the same if Marjorie hadn’t spoken to those two girls first, I shouldn’t have,” Robin confessed. “Not because of past displeasure toward them. It is one’s first impulse to return such a discourtesy in kind.”
“Did you imagine they would speak to you, Marjorie?” was Barbara’s interested question.
Marjorie smilingly shook her head. “No,” she said, “Miss Peyton hasn’t spoken to me since the evening of the Rustic Romp last spring. She has been nice to Leila, though. And generally to you, Robin, hasn’t she?”
“Um-m; so, so.” Robin answered lightly. “She certainly didn’t speak to me today.”
“That was only because you were with me,” Marjorie declared.
“And me,” echoed Jerry. “Don’t leave me out of things. There has been a Peyton-Macy feud ever since the night last year when Miss Peyton reported the social gathering in Fifteen as noisy, and she and I exchanged pleasantries. You three innocent, trusting Silvertonites were snubbed because of the company you keep.”
“May we always be found in the same company,” Robin said gaily.
“I wish we could all go up to Fifteen,” Marjorie remarked half wistful. “Annie says she thinks it has been taken. She heard Miss Remson tell Leila yesterday that she was saving it for someone. It hadn’t been taken, though, day before yesterday when I last saw Miss Remson.”
“Oh, let’s go into the living room then,” Robin proposed. “I have stacks of business to transact with you, dear partner.” She reached out and drew Marjorie into the circle of a loving arm. “Phil and Barby and Jerry can entertain one another.”