“What nice things do they hear me say?”
“That he is so handsome; that he has such a good position; that he is the very best young man in the place; that you should think every girl would be head over heels in love with him; that every word he speaks is so bright and clever.”
Annie looked at her brother.
“I don't believe you ever said one of those things,” remarked Benny.
Annie continued to look at him.
“Did you?”
“Benny dear, I am not going to tell you.”
“You won't say you never did, because that would be putting your sisters in the wrong and admitting that they tell lies. Annie, you are a dear, but I do think you are doing wrong and spoiling them as much as they say you are spoiling me.”
“Perhaps I am,” said Annie. There was a strange, tragic expression on her keen, pretty little face. She looked as if her mind was contemplating strenuous action which was changing her very features. She had covered the finished omelet and was now cooking another.
“I wish you would see if everybody is in the house and ready, Benny,” said she. “When this omelet is done they must come right away, or nothing will be fit to eat. And, Benny dear, if you don't mind, please get the butter and the cream-pitcher out of the ice-chest. I have everything else on the table.”