I am not fickel. On the contrary, I am true as steal.
I have put his Picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my gold cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with the house full of People downstairs acting in a flippent and noisy maner, I shall record how it all happened.
My finantial condition was not improved this morning, father having not returned. But I knew that I must see the Play, as mentioned above, even if it became necesary to borow from Hannah. At last, seeing no other way, I tried this, but failed.
“What for?” she said, in a suspicous way.
“I need it terrably, Hannah,” I said.
“You’d ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The last time I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and I haven’t written a letter since. They’re all stuck together now, and a totle loss.”
“Very well,” I said, fridgidly. “But the next time you break anything——”
“How much do you want?” she asked.
I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had desided to lend it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, “I think you’d ought to know, Mrs. Archibald——”
“Nothing doing, Hannah,” I said, in a most dignafied manner. “But I think you are an old Clam, and I don’t mind saying so.”