The nurse protested. "You really ought not, Miss MacVeigh."
"I love to do things that I ought not to do."
"But you'll tire yourself."
"If you were my Mary," said Mrs. Flippin severely, "I wouldn't let you have your way——"
"I love to have my own way, Mrs. Flippin. And—I am not your Mary"—then fearing that she had hurt the kind heart, she caught Mrs. Flippin's hand in her own and kissed it,—"but I wish I were. You're such a lovely mother."
Mrs. Flippin smiled at her. "I'm as near like your mother as a hen is mother to a bluebird."
Madge, robed in the mauve gown, refused to have her hair touched. "I like it in braids," and so when George came there she sat in the sitting-room, all gold and mauve—a charming picture for his sulky eyes.
"Oh," she said, as he came in, in a gray sack suit, with a gray cap in his hand, "why, you aren't even dressed for dinner!"
"Why should I be?" he demanded. "Kemp has left me."