“I suppose we’ll have to foot it,” said Edward with a sigh, glancing at his watch.
Billie flushed. Somehow this lazy boy irritated her. She had been brought up by a man who thought nothing of spanning a great chasm with a bridge or tunneling through mountains for his railroads. There was something very like contempt in her heart for this young man who played tunes on the piano and thought chiefly of his own health.
“Foot it, indeed!” she exclaimed, “and leave the Comet here to be swallowed in quicksands?”
“But it isn’t really that, you know,” he answered. “Besides, what can we do? We can’t push the thing out and this sun is awfully hot.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re going to give up without a struggle?” cried Nancy.
Even Elinor, who was Edward’s champion at all times, was not pleased.
“If you want to watch us work, you can,” went on Billie, making a great effort not to be too rude.
Edward’s face fairly burned with shame.
“I—I didn’t mean that,” he answered. “Of course, I’ll do anything you say. I was only thinking of you.”
“He was not,” thought Billie. “He was thinking of his own delicate constitution.”