Mabel was furious. It was on her tongue's end to tell her mother that of course she would be glad to go, but her stubbornness held her back, so she said a brief and snippy good-bye and hung up the receiver. But she did not leave the phone. A moment later she gave central Mrs. Morrisson's number, and flushed rather foolishly as she heard Mrs. Morrisson call hello.
"I want to thank you for having thought to ask me on your ride today Mrs. Morrisson," she said smoothly, in her best manner. "I was just talking to mother, and she told me about it." Mabel stopped here and listened eagerly for Mrs. Morrisson to renew the coveted invitation. But alas, poor Mabel!
"We were all sorry that you could not go," said Mrs. Morrisson in a sweet voice that you would never think could deal a blow to a girl's hopes. "And it is almost going to spoil the day for your mother, I know. She is always so happy when you are with her, my dear."
"It is dear of you all to want me," said Mabel, "and perhaps I can arrange things so I can go after all."
"Oh, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Morrisson in a most distressed voice, "that is too awful! You see we never thought you would think of it, so I asked another girl, a new girl the boys have met in dancing school. She is a Girl Scout and your mother thought it was just the thing to do."
Mabel swallowed hard.
"Well, I am sure she will have a good time," she replied in a thin voice. "Is she a girl I know?"
"Her name is Claire Maslin," said Mrs. Morrisson, "and I think she is really charming."
"I know her," said Mabel briefly and with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
She was glad when the conversation came to an end, and rushing back to her tumbled bed, she threw herself down and wept loudly and long. When finally she found that she could cry no more she dragged on her dress anyhow and went out to look in the tiny ice-chest. She knew what it contained. There was the usual ready-to-eat cereal and milk for her breakfast, and two discouraged looking pieces of cold boiled ham, her unfailing standby, on a saucer; but she had neglected to do any shopping the day before in the rush of necessary tasks, and there was nothing else to eat. For all day! Sunday! And mother and Frank were off on a glorious picnic! Once more Mabel wept. She set the cereal back and went wearily into the living-room. The bell rang, but Mabel did not care who it was; she did not want to see anyone. She heard a rush of feet on the stairs, and the door knob was shaken violently as her brother Frank called through the crack: