I kept staring at her hat all the
time. I don't remember anything about her except that she was old and
had wrinkles and a big picture-hat--the sort of hat that Ruth Craven
would look pretty in."
Mrs. Tennant began to find the remembrance of her delightful tea a
little depressing, for, question Kathleen as she might, she did not
remember anything about the ladies except a few fugitive descriptions.
As far as Mrs. Tennant could make out, people who were of the greatest
importance to her had left messages, and yet none of the messages could
be attended to.
"I can't even imagine who the other ladies can be," she said. "But as to
Mrs. Dalzell, she must not be neglected; I must go out and see her at
once."
"Then you will be more tired than ever, and I have not done a scrap of
good."
"You meant very kindly, my dear child, and have given me a delicious and
strengthening tea. Only don't do it again, darling, for it is my place
to give you tea, not yours to give it to me."
CHAPTER VII.
THE QUEEN AND HER SECRET SOCIETY.
Mrs. Tennant had not been out more than a minute or two before David and
Ben came in. Kathleen saw them from the window; she tapped on the window
with her knuckles, nodded to them, kissed her hand, and looked radiant
with delight. Some boys at the opposite side of the street saw her and
burst out laughing. David's face grew red.
"I wish the little Irish girl wouldn't make us figures of fun," said
Ben, speaking in an annoyed tone.
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