"Can—can you keep Jess and the boys from talking?" she whispered to Laura.
"They'll be like oysters if I tell them to," declared Mother Wit.
"Oh, then, I'll do my best," agreed the foolish girl. Possibly she was deeply impressed by her escape.
Mother Wit's plans were carried out to the letter. Plornish was deposited at the hospital, where he would remain for some weeks. The performance of Jess's play would have to get along without him on this opening night.
And when the hour for the performance arrived, Lily Pendleton was ready, her tears wiped away, glorious in one of her costumes, and "preening like a peacock"—to quote Bobby Hargrew—before one of the long mirrors in the dressing room.
"My, my!" laughed Bobby. "You look as grand as the Duchess of Doosenberry, don't you, Lil?"
Lily looked at her rather sharply. "I'd really like to know how much that child knows?" the older girl murmured.
But it wasn't what the shrewd Bobby knew; it was what she suspected!
