The Franklins were quite accustomed to these sudden decisions on the part of their father, and Mrs. Franklin did not demur. She and Cynthia hurried off to make ready, and the carriage was ordered to take them to the station.
Cynthia's preparations did not take long. Her sailor-hat perched sadly on one side, her hair tied with a faded blue ribbon, one of the cuffs of her shirt-waist fastened with a pin. All this Edith took in at a glance.
"Cynthia, you look like a guy."
"I guess I am one."
"Don't be so terribly Yankee as to say 'guess.'"
"I am a Yankee, so why shouldn't I talk like one? Oh, Edith, what do I care about ribbons and sleeve-buttons when I have to go and apologize to Aunt Betsey."
Edith was supplying the deficiencies in her sister's toilet.
"It is too bad. Janet ought not to have told. But it is just like everything else—all Mrs. Franklin's fault."
"Edith, what do you mean? Mamma did not make Janet tell; she tried to stop papa."
"I know she appeared to. But if papa had not married again would this ever have happened? You would not have heard at Mrs. Parker's that he was going to, Mrs. Parker wouldn't have said 'I told you so' to Aunt Betsey, Aunt Betsey wouldn't have found out you were there—"