“There are still evening dresses, my dear.”
“But, mother, you are not going to take us out to dinners?”
“You must have one or two dinner dresses,” said Mrs. Chetwynd, “and that is an end of the matter. Go upstairs and put on your hats. I am ashamed to go out with you as matters now stand.”
The two girls left the room linking their arms together. Letitia remained behind.
“May I ask, Letitia,” said Mrs. Chetwynd, “when this madness seized Marjorie and Eileen?”
“It has been coming on gradually,” said Letitia. “It is very bad, I know. I was afraid you would suffer a good deal when they explained themselves.”
“But when did it begin?”
“Well, two or three girls—Americans, I think—joined the school last term, and Marjorie and Eileen
became great friends with them; and just about then they began to change. They were always careless with regard to their dress, and would not allow Miss Ross—our English teacher who had us under her special care—to spend the money which you sent on dress at all.”
“And do you mean to tell me that Miss Ross consulted them?”