So Jessie followed her down the steps and into the pretty shop. Several of the tables were occupied. Right near the door were the girls Jessie had spied—Belle and Sally.
“Hullo, children!” said Amy, cheerfully. “What are you eating that’s good?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Belle said sharply. “We have given our order already.”
“Dear me, Belle,” the incorrigible Amy said calmly, “you don’t suppose that I expected generosity from you? Never!”
“You’ll get something from me you don’t expect,” muttered Belle. “You and Jess Norwood think you are wonderful, don’t you? Those silly little things you did over there at the rehearsal will never make a hit on the program. Don’t think it.”
“My mother,” said Sally Moon, “said she could hardly hear Jess singing; and that piece you recited, Amy, is as old as the hills.”
Jessie said nothing, but her chum was not to be so easily browbeaten. She tossed her head and laughed.
“That’s all right, Sally. If Jess and I did no better than your chorus we would have been put off the program right then and there. You girls have got another chance; but you’d better be careful.”
“Is that so?” cried Belle in her ugliest manner. “I suppose you know so much about it because you are friendly with Mark Stratford. He fell in your yard, and so you know him,” and she laughed. “And I understand it cost him his gold watch and chain to fall there.”
“Why, Belle!” gasped Jessie. “You shouldn’t say that.”