Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/244

234 "I've brought you up all wrong," she sighed.

Laurel made no reply to that. Swiftly, effectively, she sorted and piled. Swiftly, effectively began filling the trunks.

"Laurel, you're doing a crazy thing," Stella broke out afresh, "and for the life of me, I don't know how to stop you."

"Don't let's go all over it again."

"You're throwing away the best chance you've ever had. Listen to me. Most of these people here come from Philadelphia. I had it all worked out in my mind that if we got the right sort of a start with them this summer, here, we might take an apartment down around Philadelphia somewheres next fall. Then you'd have some of the right kind of friends to play around with, and when the time comes for you to come out, why—"

"Where's the tissue-paper, mother? I think I'll do the dresses next."

Five minutes later Stella became tearful. Laurel brought her a handkerchief.

"I should think," she wailed, after she had vigorously blown her nose and mopped her eyes, "you'd want me to have a little of the good times you've been enjoying these three weeks while I've been cooped up here in bed. I like nice people, and things going on myself. You know I do. But just the minute I am able to get out of bed and take in a little of the gayety and excitement, you let a silly quarrel with a young fellow you never saw three weeks ago cheat me of it all."

"Where are the trees for your satin slippers? Do you know?" called Laurel from the closet.