"I would like to speak with you alone, Cora," she said. "But I know what you did this afternoon, and I see you have still to change your clothing."
"They are almost dry now," Cora replied. "Yet if you could wait five minutes I could easily change in that time. Here we are. Home again. And there! Nettie has heard all about our victories; haven't you Nettie?"
"Indeed yes, Miss Cora. But I was afraid for you," replied the maid. "The child's father sent a message up here to ask when he might see you?"
"Oh, they make too much fuss over a trifle," replied Cora. "Sit here on the porch with the girls, Mabel. I will be out soon."
Finally Mabel pressed her handkerchief to her eyes and murmuring some sort of unintelligible excuse she rushed indoors.
She was met in the hall by Cora.
"Why, what is it, Mabel?" she asked, putting her arms about the sobbing one.
"Oh, I cannot stand it," wailed Mabel. "The disgrace!"
"What disgrace?"
"The—that—man!" she stammered. "But I must go back to Jeannette.
I am afraid she is losing her mind. Of course, you could not go
with me, Cora. It would be too much after your hard afternoon. But
Jeannette got your letter."