None of "the Archaics" saw Gretta during the day that followed the visit to the school. On the second morning Miss Bradbury dispatched Mahlon—if a word suggesting speed may be used in connection with Mahlon's movements—down to the Neumanns' to purchase eggs. He was gone so long that his active wife, requiring the eggs for her morning baking, lost all patience waiting for him, threw her sunbonnet on her head, tied it with a snap of its starched strings that boded ill for Mahlon when she should have found him, and started down the road to bring eggs and delinquent husband home together at a quickstep.
It was so long before Rosie returned that the family really began to fear there was some serious reason for this second delay, when Rosie appeared, striding along at a tremendous pace. Mahlon loped after her at the respectful distance of five feet, with his usual effect of being about to go to pieces at all points at once.
"Thought I wa'n't never comin' back, I guess," said Rosie as she entered, setting down her basket of eggs with one hand, and jerking off her sunbonnet with the other. "I don't believe I kin git that there puddin' done fer dinner this day. But I had to stop and listen. There's great doin's down there to Neumanns'. Eunice's madder than I ever seen her. I guess she's makin' herself feel as mad as she kin; tryin' to make herself believe she's got an excuse fer puttin' Gretta out."
"Putting her out?" cried Happie. "You don't mean that literally?"
"Litterly or not," said Rosie, evidently in the dark as to the word, "I mean it fer the plain truth. I guess she's been plottin' some time back how to make a fuss over something and tell Gretta she won't keep her no longer. Now she's takin' your visit to the school, and your insult—so she calls it—to her teacher—her cousin, I mean the teacher—as a handle, and she says Gretta can't stay in her house after what she done."
"Why, Rosie!" cried Mrs. Scollard.
"It's jest as I say," Rosie asserted, as if her veracity were questioned. "Gretta feels dreadful, but it don't do no good fer her to tell 'em Hattie took it all right, and liked the fun, yet. Eunice says she's insulted her cousin and made a bad return fer all she's done fer her, and she won't keep her another day."
"But Rosie, there wasn't the slightest tinge of malice in it; it was only a girl's harmless prank played on—and at last with—another girl," protested Mrs. Scollard. Even Miss Bradbury sat erect in considerable excitement as she listened, while Margery and Happie looked aghast at this unexpected result of harmless fun.
"Why, I guess I know that!" cried Rosie. "Hattie's even been up there herself yet, and told Eunice she wasn't insulted—thought it was fun, but it didn't do no good. I tell you what it is—and Gretta's said this herself to me this good while back—Eunice Neumann's so mad to think the girl's havin' better times that it makes her crazy to do something, she don't know what. She's made up her mind either you've got to take Gretta and keep her, or let her to the miserable, lonely times she was havin' when Happie took a fancy to her. She's threatened Gretta more'n once to drop her and leave her fine friends look after her, if they think so much of her! Gretta's been awful worried fer fear Eunice'd say something to you yet. Poor girl, she hain't got much of her cousins into her; she's took all her ways from the other side and a sensible thing she did when she done it! But now Eunice's goin' to put her out and leave her set by the roadside till somebody picks her up. I guess she thinks you'll do it, and Gretta's sick, she's so ashamed, and hurt, and angry, and all sorts of ways to oncet."
"Poor little girl!" exclaimed Miss Bradbury, as Happie turned to her in mute appeal. "And for such a trifling pretext as that playful visit to the school! We agreed before you went that there was no chance of offending any one. Happie came home and reported that the little teacher thought it as good a joke as they did."