“Oh, she can sweep without a train,” cried Merry, giving a very good imitation of Elinor as he made for the door with his baseball bat and glove.
“Now, don’t be silly, Americus Brown,” called Elinor after him. “Remember that you are to be a soldier of the nation some day, and you’ll have to stop walking pigeon-toed, then, and keep your bow-legs straight and stop grinning. It will be very difficult, I fear.”
Merry shot a coffee bean at her with his thumb and forefinger as he left the room.
“That boy will be the death of me,” exclaimed Nancy. “He reminds me of our sailor weather-cock in the garden that waves his arms and legs and turns every time there is the slightest breeze.”
“He’s a nice boy,” said Billie, who always took Merry’s side in the arguments. “But I am here this morning, as the preacher says, to ask your advice in a grave matter. Several grave matters, in fact.”
“Have you heard from Mr. Lafitte?” demanded the three girls in unison.
“No,” said Billie, “and it’s been nearly three weeks since we sent my name and address. Perhaps there hasn’t been time, but I should think they might have cabled, or something.”
“It only postpones the evil day of telling them the jewels were lost in the fire,” observed Mary.
Billie disappeared in the hall for a moment and returned with the package she had hidden in her ulster.
“The jewels came back by express this morning,” she said.