“How perfectly ridiculous!” murmured Dorothy, thinking at that moment of Tommy’s mother, dressed in a faded, worn wrapper every hour of each day throughout all the months of the year.
“And that isn’t all,” declared Tavia. “See that perfectly honest-looking person in purple?”
“Very broad and stout and homely?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes. Well, she appropriated one of our cups!”
“You’re just making these things up!” declared Dorothy, rising to leave the secluded corner.
“Really I’m not,” said Tavia earnestly, “the purple person took a cup!”
“But why should she do so?” Dorothy asked, not quite believing such a thing possible.
“That’s what we don’t know, but Aunt Winnie says it’s possibly just a fad, or a hobby, and not to notice it—but, I’m going to find out.”
“There is so much that is not real, perhaps her royal purple velvet gown is no clue to her wealth,” said Dorothy.
“No, I don’t think her dress is. I’ve decided that she needs the cup for breakfast to-morrow morning. Anyhow, her maid is in the small bedroom, that we’re using for the wraps, and we must question her,” declared Tavia.