Terhune. Go on!"
Jean had begun to resent, but the explanation mollified her.
"More tea," she said quietly, "and you might stir the dregs a mite, Mrs.
McAdam; it's plain sinful to let the strength go to waste."
"If I was Theodora Glenn," Mary Terhune went on, monotonously stirring
the cold liquid in her cup, "I'd have my eye on that girl of hers."
And now the ingredients were prepared for the mixing!
"What's Priscilla Glenn got to do with Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" Mrs. McAdam
asked sharply, fixing her little ferret eyes on the speaker.
Long Jean bridled again and interjected:
"And for why not? Young folks is young folks, and there ain't too many
boys for the gels. What with the States and the toll to death, the gels
can't be too particular, not casting my flings at Jerry-Jo, either. He's
a handsome lad and will get a footing some day. Glenn's girl ain't none
too good for him; he'd bring her to her senses. All that dancing and
fiddle-scraping at Master Farwell's is not to my liking. The goings-on
are evil-looking to my mind. The girl always was a parcel of
whim-whams--made up of odds and ends, as it was, of her fore-runners.
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