“Infirm of purpose!” cried Judy.
“Well, I’m not infirm of purpose,” said Molly. “I’ve been purposing all along to have a Welsh rarebit and make some cloudbursts and I’m still going to do it. If you Don Quixotes want to go off and hunt trouble in the meantime, though, you are welcome, only don’t stay too long.”
“Ain’t Molly the broad-minded guy, though? Live and let live was always Molly. Aren’t you coming, Nance?” And Judy sprang from her cross-legged position on the rug ready for any fray. “Come on, Margaret! Come on, Edith.”
“Don’t you know Edith is too stuffy to do such a thing? She’s afraid her perfectly good husband would not approve,” teased her sister.
“No such thing, but I’m not going. I mean to help Molly. You crazy kids go get in all the trouble you want to. Me for the house this night!”
“And Margaret? You, too, must keep the ‘home fires burning,’ I fancy.”
“I am going to stir the rarebit,” announced Margaret firmly.
“I’m going to pick out nuts for the cloudbursts,” purred Jessie.
“I must whip lace,” blushed Nance.
“Oh, you middle-aged persons! I bite my thumb at you!” cried Judy. “Who among you is young enough to go hunt adventure?”