“Then,” rejoined Mrs. Dodd, tartly, “what you want to look out for is measles an’ chicken-pox, to say nothin’ of croup.”
“Come, Gladys Gwendolen and Algernon Paul,” interrupted Mrs. Holmes, in a high key; “we must go and pack now, to go away from dear uncle’s. Dear uncle is dead, you know, and can’t help his dear ones being ordered out of his house by upstarts.”
“What’s a upstart, ma?” inquired Willie.
“People who turn their dead uncle’s relations out of his house in order to take boarders,” returned Mrs. Holmes, clearly.
“Mis’ Carr,” said Mrs. Dodd, sliding up into Dick’s vacant place, “have I understood that you want me to go away to-morrow?”
“Everybody is going away to-morrow,” returned Dorothy, coldly.
“After all I’ve done for you?” persisted Mrs. Dodd.
“What have you done for me?” parried Dorothy, with a pleading look at Elaine.
“Kep’ the others away,” returned Mrs. Dodd, significantly.
“Uncle Ebeneezer does not want any of you here,” said Dorothy, after a painful silence. The impression made by the diary was so vividly present with her that she felt as though she were delivering an actual message.