Bessie got up from her place at the tea-tray and with purpose in her eyes
walked round the table. "You take that for impertinence, sir!" she said,
and administered a stinging slap to Franky's cheek. His intention of
immediate retaliation was frustrated by Mr. Gibbon's seizing the tea-spoon
he was about to hurl at his assailant.
"I hate Bessie," Franky said; but he was used to having his face slapped
by his elder sister, and went on munching his bread-and-butter and
water-cress, not much the worse.
"We can't go to the concert, Bessie," Deleah was presently saying. "We've
got no evening frocks."
"Oh, but we have!" Bessie quickly reminded her. "The frocks which were new
for our party and never worn again."
"We _can't_ wear them!" Deleah pleaded. She felt that she could never
endure even to look at those garments again.
"But we can, and we will," Bessie declared. She was a very practical
person in matters connected with millinery and dressmaking, and in a
minute had planned the slight alterations and additional furbishings
required for their party frocks. Black ribbons instead of blue run in the
lace of the bodices. Deleah's skirt would be short, but who would see that
if Deleah were sitting down?
Deleah drooped as she listened, leaving the tea in her cup and the
bread-and-butter untouched on her plate.
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