"But you must get right down, this minute."
"No," said Flyaway, shaking her head-dress of white fringe with great solemnity; "I isn't goin' to get down."
"Ah, but you must."
Flyaway opened and shut her eyes slowly, in token of deep displeasure. "I don't never 'low little girls to scold to me," said she. "You'd better call grandma; 'haps she can make me get down."
But it was not Jennie's purpose to wait for that; she seized the little one roughly by the arms, pulled her from the table, and hurried her into the parlor.
Flyaway was indignant. "Does you—feel happy?" said she, with a reproachful glance at Jennie.
"There, look out of the window, Flyaway, darling, and watch to see if Horace isn't coming in from the garden."
"Can't Hollis come, 'thout me watching him?" returned Flyaway, winking slowly again, for her sweet little soul was stirred with wrath. The memory of the "skipt" had indeed been driven away, and she could only think,—
"Isn't Jennie so easy fretted! I wasn't doin' nuffin'; and then she jumped me right down. Unpolite gell! that's one thing."
And Jennie was thinking, "She never'll remember the money now, or, if she does, I don't believe Mrs. Parlin will pay any attention to what she says." Jennie was still very much excited, and wondered why she trembled so.