“It’s rather a long story,” admitted Peg.
“Go on and tell,” begged Louise. “I don’t think there is anything so comfy and cozy as story telling in bed,” and she gave the blankets a premonitory swish that sent a pair of sneaks flying at her neighbor’s head.
“Of course, we don’t want to intrude—that is, we don’t want to appear curious about your private business,” apologized Cleo, with a painful attempt at politeness.
“I am just too glad to tell someone,” replied Peg. “If you could ever know what it has been to be misjudged by everybody: to have people taunting you and to hear all sorts of foolish things said about you——”
“But people up here admire you—very much,” insisted Grace. “Old Pete, the boatman, told us how you rescued the man from the ice last winter.”
“Oh, that,” replied Peg. “He wasn’t really unconscious, and I had help to get him on Whirlwind. But you know how fine men are. They are generous and good-natured. Not like——”
“Say it, Peg! Not like girls! That is what you are thinking and I just agree with you,” spoke up Julia. “We saw how contemptible those flashy girls were from the very beginning.”
“Because they are the daughters of this man who has been claiming father’s rights,” replied Peg.
Miss Mackin and Aunt Carrie were now talking in an undertone over in their end of the tent, so that the girls were quite free to carry on this disjointed conversation.
“And what happened yesterday after you left the hike picnic?” asked Cleo.