Starlight and Flutters stood aghast, while Hazel flew past them into the house, slamming the front door after her, as much as to say that no exasperating Whig should ever enter it again, not even if his name was Job Avery Starlight.
The boys sat down on the step of the porch and conversed in dazed, excited whispers as to what it could all mean.
Hazel flew up the stairs into her mother's room and into her mother's arms with one great sob.
“Why, Hazel, my little daughter, what is the matter?” and Mrs. Boniface, whom Hazel had found sitting in a low rocker at the window, still in the dress she had worn to the ball, drew Hazel's brown head on to her shoulder, and soothingly stroked the brown wavy hair; but the tears were in her own eyes, and her heart was very heavy.
Hazel could not speak at first for crying, but the caressing touch of that dear hand was wonderfully calming, and presently she was able to say, “I know all about it, mother. I know they treated you shamefully. I saw that horrid old Mrs. Potter when she—”
“Hazel! Hazel, dear, you must not talk like this.”
“But it's true, every word of it is true, and tell me” (and Hazel straightened herself up and looked through blinding tears into her mother's face), “didn't they insult you? didn't they treat you very rudely, and didn't you all come home on that account?”