"You look flushed to me. And sort of heavy around the eyes--don't
you think so, papa?"
"She does look sort of peaked," affirmed Mr. Merriam.
"She's been dragging around all day," went on the mother. Missy
tried harder than ever to "perk up"--if they found out about the
headache, like as not they'd put a taboo on the party--grown-ups
were so unreasonable. Parties were good for headaches.
"I heard over at Mrs. Allen's this afternoon," Aunt Nettie put in,
"that there's measles in town. All the Smith children are down with
it." Missy recalled the oldest little Smith girl, with the fever, at
the picnic, but said nothing.
"I wonder if Missy could have run into it anywhere," said mother
anxiously.
"Me?" ejaculated the Society Editor, disdainfully.
"Children have measles!"
"Children! Listen to her!" jeered Aunt Nettie with delight.
"I've had the measles," Missy went on. "And anyway I feel fine!" So
saying, she set to to make herself eat the last mouthful of the
blackberry cobbler she didn't want.
It was hard to concentrate on her toilette with the fastidious care
she would have liked.
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