Addie colors to the roots of her hair, and walks away slowly without a word.
"You shouldn't, boys," interposes Pauline, with a sage nod of her tumbled head. "Remember, she is his wife now, and may not like your—your expressing yourselves so freely."
"Oh, stuff, Polly! She does not mind a bit—why should she? She'll be one of ourselves to the end of the chapter. I don't see a bit of change in her."
"Don't you?" retorts Pauline. "Well, I do—a great change; and you'll agree with me before long, I think."
"You mean to insinuate that she'd take Armstrong's part against us? Not she! Addie's grit to the backbone."
"Time will reveal who is right."
"There goes the first dinner-bell!" shouts Lottie, rising. "I hope you're in splendid appetite, boys, because we've famous dinners now, I can tell you—regular young dinner-parties every day—soup, entries, joints, such sweets, and such desert!"
"My!" exclaims Hal, smacking his lips and rubbing the middle of his waistcoat vulgarly. "'Times is changed,' as the dogs'-meat man said."
Meantime Addie, with lowering face and trembling hands, was divesting herself of her soiled dress, pained and indignant.