"Hear! hear!" chimed in Judy.

"Stoopids!" said Bunty, in a voice of great scorn. "Doesn't Mr.
Gillet keep the store keys--just think those currants and figs."



CHAPTER XVIII The Picnic at Krangi-Bahtoo


Esther had gone to a ball, not in a dress of delicate colour with
great puffed sleeves, and a dazzling neck bare and beautiful under its
wraps, not through the darkness to a blaze of lights and swinging
music.

She had gone, in the broad light of the morning, in a holland suit
with a blue Henley shirt, a sailor hat, and a gossamer.

Under the front buggy seat where Mr. Hassal sat was a box containing
a beautiful gown, all daffodil silk and delicate wavelets of chiffon.
And there were daffodil shoes and stockings, a plume fan in a hat-box
on her knee, and a lovely trained white underskirt with billowy
frills of torchon, the very sight of which made Meg wild to
be grown up.

But none of these things were to be donned for many an hour yet.

The ball was a neat little matter of fifty-five miles away, across
country, so she had to start tolerably early, of course, in order to
have comfortable time to "titivate," as Pip expressed it.