“Well,” said Sue, as Gladys came noisily into their room, “now I suppose you’ve made all the girls so mad they will never speak to me again.”
“I have told them what I think of them,” and Gladys looked at Sue askance over her shoulder as she spoke, “and I advise you to quit a club that can be as unkind as this has been to-night.”
“When I want your advice I will ask it; I advise you to keep it until then. Whom did you see?”
“All of them, hiding under beds and in closets.”
“That means a spread without leave, and we not invited. You’re a tell-tale Gladys; they are afraid of you.”
“Good!” said Gladys with a scornful laugh.
“Girls,” said a gentle voice from the bedroom door, “don’t mind; it’s foolish in me I dare say, and—and the tableaux were real funny,” and an odd attempt at a laugh ended in a burst of tears.
In a moment both of Gladys’s arms were around Marion’s neck.
“You dear, darling old Marion,” she said, whimpering herself.
“Too much noise in this room!” said Miss Palmer’s voice at their door. “I did not expect this, Marion! Dorothy, what does it mean?” 83