“Much unhappiness may be caused by such things,” said Mrs. Durland; “and of course they mean nothing.”
“I’ve always felt,” remarked Ethel, “that there’s something just a little vulgar about it.”
“Oh, piffle!” exclaimed Grace impatiently. “We all know it’s a joke; we just wanted to have a little fun out of it.”
“Don’t bother, Grace,” said Miss Vail. “We’ll just forget about it.”
Stephen Durland, who had changed his clothes in honor of Grace’s party, broke his silence to say:
“I don’t see any harm in those things. They’re all explained on scientific grounds. I think it would be interesting to watch it work.”
“It probably wouldn’t work in such an atmosphere,” said Grace, thoroughly irritated.
“Suppose,” said Mrs. Durland with sudden inspiration, “you girls make fudge! I’ll get the things ready. I never saw a girl yet who didn’t like fudge.”
Something had to be done to amuse the guests and Grace assented. Ethel, however, did not participate in the fudge making, but took herself off to bed. Grace resolved never again to ask any one to the house. She said as much to Ethel the next morning.
“You seem to forget that I pay my board here and help with the housework, too. I ought to have a few privileges. Those are as nice girls as I ever knew and you and mother drove us into the kitchen as though we were a lot of silly children. You’re certainly the queen of the kill-joys.”