"Oh, my goodness me—oh, oh!" exclaimed Alexia, with a little laugh. "Is this you, Miss Chatterton?"
"Yes," said Charlotte Chatterton, "I came to ask if you would get up
something nice to celebrate the home-coming of all the family from
Brierly; and Mr. Whitney's family are to come too, next week. Will you,
Miss Rhys?"
"Well, I never!" cried Alexia Rhys, sinking into the first chair she could find. "You want me—I shouldn't think you would," she added truthfully.
"I didn't at first," said Charlotte Chatterton, "but I do now, Miss Rhys—oh! very much, you and Miss Harrison, and all those girls—you can get up something beautiful; and Dr. Fisher and I don't in the least know how, and we want you to do it." Then she sat quite still.
"Well, I declare!" cried Alexia Rhys, unable to find another word. Then
she looked out of the window. "Oh, here's Clem," and, rushing out,
Charlotte could hear a whispered consultation with, "Did you ever?" and
"I'm awfully ashamed," while Clem's voice said, "So am I."
"Well, come in," said Alexia audibly at last, dragging Clem after her into the reception room, "we've got to do what's right now, any way."
"I'm awfully ashamed, Miss Chatterton," said Clem Forsythe, going straight to Charlotte's chair and putting out her hand; "we girls haven't been right to you since you came, and I, for one, want to ask your pardon."
"Dear me, so do I," cried Alexia, crowding in between with an eager hand stretched out, "but what good will that do—we said things, at least I did the most. Oh, my hateful tongue!"
"If you'll only take hold and make a nice celebration for Polly and all the others, that will be all I'd want," said Charlotte. "Thank you, you are so good," she brought up happily.
"And then we'll do something for you some time," declared Alexia, "all for yourself, won't we, Clem—something perfectly elegantly splendid?"