"Go on! Make up some more," but Clemence from the dignity of seventeen
years felt bound to protest--
"I don't think you--_ought_! It's not your business. Mrs Vernon's a
friend, and she wouldn't be pleased. To talk behind her back--"
"All right," agreed Darsie swiftly. "Let's crack nuts!"
Positively she left one breathless! One moment poised on imaginary
flights, weaving stories from the baldest materials, drawing allegories
of the lives of her friends, the next--an irresponsible wisp, with no
thought in the world but the moment's frolic; but whatever might be the
fancy of the moment she drew her companions after her with the magnetism
of a born leader.
In the twinkling of an eye the scene was changed, the Vernons with their
peculiarities were consigned to the limbo of forgotten things, while
boys and girls squatted on the rug scrambling for nuts out of a paper
bag, and cracking them with their teeth with monkey-like agility.
"How many can you crack at a time? Bet you I can crack more than you!"
cried Darsie loudly.