“Never mind, Virginia. It’s no disgrace to you.”
“It’s really Imogene’s fault. Why did she giggle like that?”
“Do you suppose it could have been on purpose?” Courageous Anne ventured to give voice to a suspicion which, except for Dorothy, seemed general enough.
But Dorothy, though annoyed at Imogene’s thoughtlessness, which had caused trouble for Virginia, was loath to believe that it had arisen from anything but thoughtlessness. To speak truly, Dorothy was fascinated by Imogene—her wit, money, clothes, and, above all, by her air of wisdom, and her “don’t care” ways. Therefore she defended her hotly.
“Of course it wasn’t on purpose, Anne!” she said indignantly. “Imogene wouldn’t do such a thing!” But the silence which followed seemed to show that all did not share Dorothy’s confidence; and Anne, growing more courageous, said:
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“I’d like to know what Miss Wallace said to her.”
“So should I.”
“She was plain mad when she came up-stairs, for she slammed the door like anything.”
“Yes, and I heard her give Vivian fits for having the window open.”