“Not for me,” asserted Miss Meredith, proudly virtuous, as she walked on.
If Miss Drinker had searched for a twelve-month she could scarce have found a more provoking remark than her spontaneous exclamation, “Oh! how beautiful she is!”
Janice halted, though she had the moral stamina not to turn.
“What? The chain?” she asked.
“No! The miniature,” responded her interlocutor, in a tone expressing the most unbounded admiration and delight. “Such an elegant creature, Jan, and such—”
Her speech ended there, as a crashing in the bushes alarmed her, and she darted past Janice, who, infected by the guilt of her companion, likewise broke into a run, which neither ceased till they had covered a goodly distance. Then Tabitha, for want of breath, came to a stop, and allowed her friend to overtake her.
She held up the chain and miniature in her hand. “What shall I do?” she panted.
“Tibbie, how could you?” ejaculated her horrified friend.
“His coming frighted me so that—oh, I didn’t drop it!”
“You must take it back!”