A Flock of Girls and Boys | Page 7

voice something of what
he meant, and turned scornfully away, her head up, and with a glance at
Tom that plainly showed she expected him to follow her.
But Tom made no movement of that kind. He stood where he was,
looking across at Will, who, red and ashamed, had approached Miss
Smith, and was evidently making some sort of apology to her for the
insult that had been offered to her; and Miss Smith was listening to this
apology with the coolest little face imaginable.
Tom, taking all this in, gave another of his odd little chuckles. Agnes
heard it, and flushed scarlet. So he was taking sides with Will
Wentworth, was he? And what--what--was that--Tilly? Yes, it was
Tilly,--Tilly with the racket she, Agnes, had flung down,--Tilly
standing in her place and--and--serving the ball back to that girl! So
Tilly was with them too? Well, she would see, they would all see, that
Agnes Brendon was not a person to be snubbed and disregarded in this
fashion, nor a person to be forced to make acquaintances with vulgar or
common people against her will. Oh, they would see, they would see!
And bracing herself up with these indignant resolutions, Agnes betook
herself to the hotel.
Before the end of the week there were two distinct parties in the house,
where heretofore there had been but one,--two distinct opposing forces.
On one side were Agnes and Dora and Amy; on the other side were
Tilly and Tom and Will. Dora and Amy were not naturally ill-natured
girls, but they were inclined to be worldly and were greatly under
Agnes's influence. She had been a sort of authority with them for a
good while, perforce of her dominant disposition and the knowledge
she seemed to possess of the worldly matters that were of so much
interest to them.
"But I should think you would feel ashamed to side with Agnes
Brendon in persecuting a poor little stranger," said honest Tilly, a day

or two after the tennis affair; for Agnes had at once set to work to carry
out her plan of showing that she was not to be forced, as she expressed
it, into making acquaintances she didn't like, and had thus lost no
opportunity of being disagreeable.
Dora flushed at Tilly's words, but she answered coolly,--
"Persecuting! I don't call it persecuting to avoid a person one doesn't
want to know."
"Yes; but how does Agnes avoid her? She stiffens herself up and curls
her lips when the girl goes by, as if there was something contaminating
about her; and one night when we were in the music-room and Miss
Smith was playing and singing 'Mrs. Brady' for us, Agnes came in with
Amy and made a great fuss and noise, disturbing everybody in
pretending to hunt up one of her own music-books; and when I asked
her to be quieter, she said something horrid about 'low common songs,'
and 'Mrs. Brady' isn't a low common song; and the other morning,
when Pete, the little dog, ran up to her on the piazza, she pushed him
away from her in such a disagreeable manner--and so it has gone on
every day, and I think it's a shame, and such a nice girl as Miss Smith is
too. I told grandmother all about it,--the whole story,--and she says it is
Agnes who is vulgar and not Miss Smith, and that she never would
have brought me here if she had known that a girl who could behave
like that was to be in the house; and you can tell Miss Agnes Brendon
this, if you like, and you can tell her too that she'll only make us stand
by Miss Smith stancher than ever by persecuting her as she does."
"I shall tell her nothing of the kind, and there's no such thing as
persecution anyway,--that's ridiculous. Agnes is very exclusive,--the
Brendons all are,--and she doesn't like to make acquaintances with
common people, that's all."
"Common people! Miss Smith isn't any more common than you or I.
She's a very ladylike girl.--much more ladylike and nice, and
nicer-looking too, than Agnes."
"Nicer looking with those plain frocky dresses, and her hair all pulled

back without the sign of a crimp or curl!" and Dora burst into a jeering
laugh.
"Oh, she isn't all fussed up, I know, as most of us girls are; but her
clothes are of the very finest materials,--I've noticed that."
"And that stuffy old aunt's clothes are of the finest material, I suppose;
and the little yellow dog's coat is as fine as a King Charles spaniel's,"
jeered Dora.
"Stuffy old aunt! She isn't stuffy in the least. She's a little old-fashioned;
that's all. Grandmother has taken quite a fancy to her."
Dora smiled a very provoking