He couldn't help feeling for the youngster. So he
thought he'd bring her the white fox furs she seemed to have set her
heart on.
And Mrs. Merriam, who could understand a father's indulgent,
sympathetic heart even though--as Missy believed--she wasn't capable
of "understanding" a daughter's, didn't have it in her, then, to
spoil his pleasure by expounding that wanting furs and wanting beaux
were really one and the same evil.
CHAPTER VII
BUSINESS OF BLUSHING
Missy was embroiled in a catastrophe, a tangle of embarrassments and
odd complications. Aunt Nettie attributed the blame broadly to "that
O'Neill girl"; she asserted that ever since Tess O'Neill had come to
live in Cherryvale Missy had been "up to" just one craziness after
another. But then Aunt Nettie was an old maid--Missy couldn't
imagine her as EVER having been fifteen years old. Mother, who could
generally be counted on for tenderness even when she failed to
"understand," rather unfortunately centred on the wasp detail--why
had Missy just stood there and let it keep stinging her? And Missy
felt shy at trying to explain it was because the wasp was stinging
her LEG.
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