Ellen frowned. "I don't see what that's got to do with tomorrow's supper."
Rosie took a deep breath. "It's got a lot to do with it if I'm going to help."
For a moment the sisters measured each other in silence. Then Ellen broke out petulantly:
"Well, then, Miss Busybody, if you've got to know, I haven't! And, what's more, I'm not going to!"
"You're not going to, eh? We'll see about that." Rosie turned to her mother. "Ma, I'll help you tomorrow night. We'll have a good supper. But I want to give you both fair warning: if Ellen don't tell this Harry about Jarge Riley, I will! She's trying to make a goat of both of them and I'm not going to stand for it."
"Ma!" screamed Ellen, "are you going to let her meddle with my affairs like that? You make her mind her own business!"
"Rosie dear," begged Mrs. O'Brien, "don't go excitin' your poor sister Ellen by any such foolish threats. You'd only be causin' trouble, Rosie, and I'm sure you don't want to do that. And, Ellen dear, don't raise your voice. The neighbours will hear you."
"I don't care!" Ellen shouted. "She's nothing but George's little watch-dog, and I tell you I'm not going to stand it!"
"Perhaps, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien ventured timidly, "it might be just as well if you did tell him about Jarge."
Ellen burst into tears. "You're all against me, every one of you—that's what you are! You're so afraid I'll have a good time! Isn't George coming on Thanksgiving and aren't we to be married in the spring? I should think that would suit you! But, no, you've got to spoil my fun now and it's a mean shame—that's what it is!"