When the Girls Came Out
Georgia's mother assumed the "who could help it" expression which is natural to her on these occasions. "I do wish they hadn't had this last absurd quarrel," she sighed. "Georgia can't help taking a little notice of other girls. Really she is most exacting, and knowing what he is, Martin, you can't wonder that the boy is always so besieged."
I laughed.
"I'm sorry he is in the wars again," said I. "Send him down to Drusilla, and let her try her hand with him at consolation."
The next evening he came, and when I fathomed the deep depths of gloomy despair into which he was apparently plunged I was almost sorry I had asked him. I left him as soon as possible to Drusilla, trusting to her tact and sympathy to clear away the clouds which overhung his youthful brow, but I had a short respite, for in ten minutes she called me in. Georgie was standing by the fire, his face hidden in his arms, which rested on the
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