“That’s a remarkably bright, pretty little girl, but I fancy she wouldn’t toss her head so if there was much in it,” whispered Mr. Garland’s nephew to Miss Pike, while Mr. Garland was putting out the words.
Miss Pike had been pained by Mary’s silly behavior, but replied:—
“You are wrong, quite wrong, Mr. Porter, she is a dear little girl and has plenty of sense.”
It was positively gratifying to the good lady afterwards to hear Mary mis-spell the word pillory, for the mortification humbled her, and from that moment there was no more tossing of curls.
When the time was up, Captain James’s side had conquered most victoriously, numbering twice as many as the other side. The two captains bowed to each other and the game was over. Then Fred Allen, Fanny Townsend, and all the other wallflowers were allowed at last to move. It was time to go home.
The girls and boys, all shawled and hooded and coated and capped, went toward the door, chatting and laughing.
James Hunnicut said to Grace Mallon, “Beg your pardon; I didn’t mean to take all your men.”
“Oh,” returned Grace, undaunted, “I had men enough left, and dare say I should have got every one of yours away from you if we’d only played half an hour longer.”
“Ah, you would, would you? Well, we’ll try it again and see. Isn’t that little girl of Dr. Gray’s a daisy?”