"In the wilds of New York City," answered Tilly, sarcastically.
"Where the sacred stiffies of Boston are unknown," cried Dora Robson, with a laugh.
"But the Pelhams,—I thought that everybody knew of the Pelhams at least," Agnes remarked, with a glance at Tilly that plainly expressed a doubt of her denial. Tilly caught the glance, and, still further irritated, cried impulsively,—
"Well, I never heard of them! Why should I? What have they done, pray tell, that everybody should know of them?"
"'Done'? I don't know as they've done anything. It's what they are. They are very rich and aristocratic people. Why, the Pelhams belong to one of the oldest families of Boston."
"What do I care for that?" said Tilly, tipping her head backward until it bumped against the wall of the house with a sounding bang, whereat Dora Robson gave a little giggle and exclaimed,—
"Mercy, Tilly, I heard it crack!"
Then another girl giggled,—it was another of the Robsons,—Dora's Cousin Amy; and after the giggle she said saucily,—
"Tilly's head is full of cracks already. I think we'd better call her 'Crack Brain;' we'll put it C.B., for short."
"You'd better call her L.H.,—'Level Head,'" a voice—a boy's voice—called out here.