“Now,” he said. “What’s she up to?”
He always referred to Tish as “she,” to Aggie and myself.
“She has given up going to France,” I replied.
“Perhaps! What does Hannah report?”
I am sorry to say that, fearing Tish’s impulsive nature, we had felt obliged to have Hannah watch her carefully. Tish has a way of breaking out in unexpected places, like a boil, as Charlie Sands once observed, and by knowing her plans in advance we have sometimes prevented her acting in a rash manner. Sometimes, not always.
“Hannah says everything is quiet,” Aggie said. “Dear Tish has apparently given up all thought of going abroad. At least, Hannah says she no longer practises first aid on her. Not since the time Tish gave her an alcohol bath and she caught cold. Hannah says she made her lie uncovered, with the window open, so the alcohol would evaporate. But she gave notice the next day, which was ungrateful of her, for Tish sat up all night feeding her things out of her First Aid case, and if she did give her a bit of iodine by mistake——”
“She is no longer interested in First Aid,” I broke in. Aggie has a way of going on and on, and it was not necessary to mention the matter of the iodine. “I know that, because I blistered my hand over there the other day, and she merely told me to stick it in the baking soda jar.”
“That’s curious,” said Charlie Sands.
“Because—— Great Scott, what’s wrong with these cigarettes?”
“They are violet-scented,” Aggie explained. “The smell sticks so, and Lizzie is fond of violet.”