I
don't suppose you were going to stay in for a few hours. Oh, of course
not!" she concluded, seeing that her older brother was wearing his khaki
service uniform and held a big, broad-brimmed hat in his hand. "Heigh-
ho, don't I wish I were a boy," she sighed whimsically, turning at last
toward her mirror, decorated with college flags, and beginning to braid
the second half of her hair.
John Everett, frowned and fidgeted. "I am sorry, Meg," he replied after
a moment. "I would stay at home, only there is a meeting of my brigade
and when a fellow belongs to a thing why he owes it some of his time. I
don't see why you have to stay at home so much. Of course it is a good
deal for a girl to have to look after, a house and father and the kid
and me, but you have two maids and if you only were a better manager.
Why you don't seem even to take time to dress like other girls, you are
always kind of flying apart with a button off your waist or the braid
torn on your skirt, and I do love a spick and span girl. Why don't you
look like Betty Ashton, she's always up to the limit?"
Margaret Everett coiled her yellow plaits about her head, keeping her
back turned to hide the trembling of her lips until she was able to
answer cheerfully. "Why yes, I should like to look like 'The Princess'
and wear clothes like she does, but in the first place I am not so good
looking as Betty, I haven't a maid to see after my clothes and fifty
dollars a month to dress on--and I haven't a mother.
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