“Molly!”
“Oh, mother! do forgive me, and don't say she mustn't come because I said 'Holy Moses.' It's all Linda; she excites the vulgar in me always. But may Stephie come, mother? You are always having Linda's friends here.”
“I will not be reproved by you, Molly.”
“But, please, dear mother, let her come. Nora and I want her so badly.”
“Well, dear, I will try and see Miss Flowers tomorrow morning.”
“Won't you judge of her for yourself, mother? There never was a better judge than you are.”
This judicious flattery had its effect on Mrs. Hartrick, She sat quite still for a moment, pondering. After all, to be a pupil at Mrs. Flowers' school was in itself a certificate of respectability, and Molly had been very good lately—that is, for her; and if she and Nora wanted a special friend to spend the afternoon with them, it would be possible for Mrs. Hartrick quickly to decide whether the invitation was to be repeated.
“Very well,” she said, looking at her daughter, “for this once you may have her; and as you have wisely expressed it, Molly, I can judge for myself.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, mother!”
Molly rushed out of the room. She was flying headlong down the passage, when she came plump up against Linda.