“What is to become of you, Isabelle?” inquired Miss Watts, with tragic fervour.
Isabelle ate a huge breakfast, and waited cheerfully for her summons to judgment. It came at eleven. She went to her mother’s room, where that lady sat in her bed. Her husband sat by, arms folded, expression stern.
“Hello,” said Isabelle.
“Sit down!” her mother ordered, fiercely.
Isabelle sat.
“How did you get out of this house last night?”
“Walked out.”
“Where was Miss Watts?”
“Asleep in bed.”