“You can put on as many grand airs as you choose, miss, but you’ll find that we know how to take them for just what they are worth,” said Isabel, scoffingly.
“Mrs. Coolidge, that box and all its contents are mine, and I demand that you yield it up to me,” Brownie said, sternly, fully aroused.
“Hear the minx, mamma; do dismiss her instantly,” cried Isabel, angrily.
“You cannot have them, Miss Douglas, until you prove that they are yours,” returned Mrs. Coolidge, firmly, and she closed the box with a snap.
“Then I shall be obliged to take legal measures to obtain them,” returned the young girl, with decision.
“Ha, ha! hear her, mamma. She speaks like a princess, and she says she shall consider her engagement with you at an end, as if that were a matter she only can decide,” cried Isabel, actually quivering with rage.
Brownie noticed her by neither word nor look.
Addressing Mrs. Coolidge again very gently, she said:
“Once more, madam, will you give up my property?”
She spoke so imperatively that for a moment the woman was staggered, and began to think she had better yield the point, for, if the girl should call in official aid, it might make things very awkward and unpleasant.