"So've I," chimed in Flaxie Frizzle, admiring her cousin's fine graces. Such tiptoeing and courtesying and waving of hands before the looking-glass. How did Lucy manage it so well?
"And, if people have plants," continued Lucy, "then you say, 'How flagrant!' And, if people have children, you say, 'What darlings!' and pat their hair, and ask, 'Do you go to school, my dear?'"
"They've said that to me ever so many times; and I've got real sick of it," remarked Flaxie.
"And they keep calling every thing char-ar-ming and bee-you-oo-tiful! with such tight gloves on, I know their fingers feel choked!"
"I spect we ought to go," said Flaxie, tired of all this instruction. "I don't believe you know how to behave, Lu Abbott. You never made any calls, more'n I did."
As they went through the hall, Flaxie thought she would "borrow" Aunt Jane's lace veil; but Lucy did not observe this till they had started off. They tripped along the roadside, past Mr. Potter's store, past the church, their feet scarcely touching the grass. Lucy felt like a princess royal till they reached Mrs. Prim's beautiful grounds, and then her heart fluttered a little. She had a sudden longing to run home and get Gussie to come back with them.
"Pull the bell," said she to Flaxie. Flaxie pulled so hard that her veil flew off, and she had to chase it several rods.
"Put it in your pocket, you awful child," exclaimed Lucy, as Kitty Maloney, the kitchen girl, opened the door in alarm, thinking something dreadful had happened.
"Why, bless my soul, if 'tisn't Docther Gray's little snip of a Mary. And who's this? Why, it's Miss Abbott's little gee-url. Anybody sick?"