“Well, give an account uh yourself,” her father said. “Where was you till twelve this morning?”
“I stayed with some friends,” Blanche answered—she wasn’t afraid to tell them the truth, of course not, but she wanted to avoid the senseless wrangling, and the loud accusations, and the outraged advice that would ensue if she did. “I drank a little too much and I had to sleep it off, that’s all.”
“An’ how about Campbell—was he with you?” her father asked, gruffly.
“He was gone when I woke up this morning,” Blanche answered, seeking only to brush aside her father’s words.
“Well, it sounds damn fishy to me,” her father replied. “’F he did anything wrong to you I’ll have it out with him, and he’ll have to marry you then, ’f he knows what’s good f’r him.”
“That’s what I say,” Harry broke in. “I like Joe all right, but he’d better go slow with any sister uh mine, I don’t care ’f he was the Gov’ner himself!”
“You’re getting terribly concerned about me all at once, aren’t you?” Blanche asked, speaking to Harry. “You’d better not jump at conclusions—you don’t know a thing about it.”
“I’ll make it my business to find out,” Harry answered, looking steadily at her.
“Well, I’m gonna stick up f’r Blanie this time,” Mabel said. “You’re both makin’ a big fuss about nothin’, an’ what’s more, you’ve got no right to be sayin’ she’s a bad girl. You oughta be ashamed uh yourselves. All she did was stay overnight with some people she knew ’cause she wasn’t in no condition to come home. I’ve done it myself, once ’r twice, an’ you never waded into me. Blanche may be a nut in some ways but she’s not fool enough to let Joe Campbell put it over on her, an’ you oughta believe her.”
Blanche gave her sister a grateful, surprised look—Mabel did have a good streak in her, in spite of her blind reproaches.