Barbara stared at first in utter
unbelief that her room could be so barren of comfort, then she turned
and frowned darkly as the truth impressed her.
"Why! There's nothing here--only an old bed, and a painted set of
drawers such as our servants would fling out of the room!" Then she
caught a twisted reflection of her face in the green mirror. It was too
much!
She threw herself upon the sofa and laughed hysterically. Eleanor
wondered at her sister's discordant mirth but when she looked in the
direction Barbara's eyes were turned, she saw the cause.
"Verily, Anne, 'pride goeth before a fall'--Poor Bob!" said Eleanor,
cynically.
Anne could not hide a smile at the words but tried to smooth matters
out by going to the window and speaking of the view.
"I've had landscape enough for one day, Anne, and could recover
somewhat, if I had an opportunity, without having a family party
about," retorted Barbara, meaningly.
Instantly, Mrs. Brewster turned and beckoned Polly to follow her from
the room. The moment the door closed upon the hostess and her daughter,
Barbara anticipated her friend's reproach.
"Anne, where were your brains when you recommended this awful place to
father?"
"I had nothing to do with recommending it, Bob. Your father already
knew of it and merely asked me to write Polly--my little pupil of a few
years ago."
"But why didn't you tell _me_ what to expect?" demanded the angry girl.
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