vexedly.

"But he pantomime--quick, Esther--have you asked him?" they
cried impatiently.

"The pantomime! He says he would rather make it worth Mr.
Rignold's while to take it off the boards than that one of you
should catch a glimpse of it--and it serves you very well right!
Meg, for goodness' sake give Baby some dry clothes--just look
at her; and, Judy, if you have any feeling for me, take off
that frock. Bunty, you wicked boy, I'll call your father if
you don't stop that noise. Nell, take the scissors from the
General, he'll poke his eyes out, bless him."

The young stepmother leaned back in her chair and looked round
her tragically. She had never seen her husband so thoroughly
angered, and her beautiful lips quivered when she remembered how
he had seemed to blame her for it all.

Meg hadn't moved; the water was trickling slowly off Baby's
clothes and making a pool on the floor, Bunty was still giving
vent to spasmodic boos and hoos, Judy was whistling stormily,
and the General, mulcted of the scissors, was licking his own
muddy shoe all over with his dear little red tongue.

A sob rose in her throat, two tears welled up in her eyes and
fell down her smooth, lovely cheeks. "Seven of you, and I'm only
twenty!" she said pitifully. "Oh! it's too bad--oh dear! it
is too bad."