“She has the expression of a basilisk I saw the picture of the other day.” spoke up Mrs. Dick.

“What kind of an expression was that?” inquired Mrs. Winslow Teed.  “I saw a stuffed basilisk in a London museum when I was abroad, but I can’t seem to recollect its expression.”

“Look at her!” laughed Mrs. Dick.  “She has it to perfection.”

Miss Crilly’s giggle preceded her words.

“She’s like a beanpole with its good clothes on, ain’t she?  But, then, I think Miss Sniffen is real nice sometimes,” she amended.

“So are basilisks and beanpoles—­in their proper places,” retorted Miss Major; “but they don’t belong in the June Holiday Home.”

“Are her rules so awful?” inquired Miss Mullaly anxiously.

“I don’t like them very,” answered the little Swedish widow.

“Mis’ Adlerfeld puts it politely.” laughed Miss Crilly.  “I’ll tell you what they are, they are like the little girl in the rhyme—­with a difference,—­

   ’When they’re bad, they’re very, very bad,
   And when they’re good, they’re horrid!’”

“I heard you couldn’t have any company except one afternoon a week,” resumed Miss Mullaly, after the laughing had ceased,—­“not anybody at all.”

“Sure!” returned Miss Crilly.  “Wednesday afternoon, from three to five, is the only time you can entertain your best feller.”

“Why, Polly Dudley was here Thursday morning!”

“Now you’ve got me!” admitted Miss Crilly.  “She’s a privileged character.  She runs over any blessed minute she wants to.”

“And she brings her friends with her,” added Miss Castlevaine,—­“David Collins and his greataunt’s daughter,—­Leonora Jocelyn,—­Patricia Illingworth, and Chris Morrow, and that girl they call Lilith, besides the Stickney boys up in Foxford—­huh!”

“She must be pretty bold, when it’s against the rule,” observed Miss Mullaly.

“No,” dissented Mrs. Albright, “it isn’t boldness.  Polly runs in as naturally as a kitten.  The rest don’t come so very often.  I shouldn’t say they’d let ’em; but they do.”

“There’s never any favoritism in the June Holiday Home—­never!” Mrs. Crump’s brown poplin bristled with sarcasm.

“Maybe it’s on Miss Sterling’s account,” interposed Mrs. Albright.  “She thinks so much of Polly, perhaps they hope it’ll help to bring her out of this sooner.”

“Don’t you believe it!” Miss Castlevaine’s head nodded out the words with emphasis.  “Dr. Dudley’s a good one to curry favor with.”

“Is Miss Sterling a relative of his?” asked Miss Mullaly.

“No.  Haven’t you heard how they got acquainted?  Quite a pretty little story.”  Mrs. Albright settled herself comfortably in the rocker and adjusted the cushion at her back.

The others, who were familiar with the facts, moved closer together and nearer the window, both to facilitate their needles and their tongues.