"Yes, and asked all those questions!"
Martha wasn't to be humored in this.
"I didn't see anything objectionable in what they asked," Emily responded dryly.
"You didn't? Didn't you hear Greta asking where Eve was? 'What's become of Eve this vacation?' she said, just like that."
"Well, child, why shouldn't she ask you where Eve is spending her holiday? You've been in school with her all term. You'd be supposed to know. You forget that Eve about lived in this house last summer."
"I forget it, do I? Oh, look here, mammie, if I finish your packing, won't you go to-night?"
"Our reservations are for to-morrow night. You know that."
"They'll change them; and if they won't, let's stay in Chicago a night. I'd rather stay any place in the world than here, mammie." She was pleading now, not resentfully, but humbly.
"All right," said Emily, "if daddy agrees."
Martha turned away impatiently. In the presence of death Bob Kenworthy had appeared a good father. But Martha, having now to face life, already found him only an irritation. "It isn't Bob's fault this time that she wants to get away," Emily thought.