Instinctively
she felt her grandmother would feel that a calamity had befallen them in
losing the patronage of the manager of the ten-cent store. Perhaps Lizzie
would get into trouble. What should she do?
She had reached the corner where she and Lizzie usually took the car for
home. The car was coming now; but she had no hat nor coat, and no money to
pay for a ride. She must walk. She paused not, but fled on in a steady
run, for which her years on the mountain had given her breath. Three miles
it was to Flora Street, and she scarcely slackened her pace after she had
settled into that steady half-run, half-walk. Only at the corner of Flora
Street she paused, and allowed herself to glance back once. No, the
manager had not pursued her. She was safe. She might go in and tell her
grandmother without fearing he would come behind her as soon as her back
was turned.
CHAPTER XII
ELIZABETH'S DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE
Mrs. Brady was at the wash-tub again when her most uncommon and unexpected
grandchild burst into the room.
She wiped her hands on her apron, and sat down with her usual exclamation,
"Fer the land sakes! What's happened? Bessie, tell me quick. Is anything
the matter with Lizzie? Where is she?"
But Elizabeth was on the floor at her feet in tears. She was shaking with
sobs, and could scarcely manage to stammer out that Lizzie was all right.
Mrs. Brady settled back with a relieved sigh.
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