CHAPTER XII
WHERE LOVE IS DEAF
"Doesn't it seem funny," Amy was saying as she daintily but thoroughly gnawed a chicken bone, "not to have the boys with us?"
"Well I think," returned Mollie, her nose at an independent angle, "that it's mighty nice—for a change."
"Yes," Grace agreed, employing her paper napkin to remedy the damage done by a vivid spot of jelly on her skirt. "They seem to think they can dictate to us. Imagine it! To us! Outdoor girls who have never known what it was to take dictation from any one!"
"Except our Daddies," Betty broke in, her eyes twinkling. "I've seen even you stand at attention, Gracie dear, when Mr. Ford spoke."
"Oh well, of course," said Grace, dismissing the interruption with a wave of her hand. "We've got to obey our parents, till we're twenty-one anyway."
"Then I guess we've got to go on obeying all the rest of our lives," said Mollie, with a sigh.
They looked at her curiously.
"For who," she went on to explain reasonably, "in her right senses is going to admit to being twenty-one?"