"Dexie, my dear, calm yourself, and tell me what is the matter; you will
make yourself ill. What is it all about, my dear?"
Dexie pointed to the crumpled handbill that she had tossed under the table
as she threw off her wraps, and her father stooped and picked it up, then
smoothing it across his knee read the cause of offence.
"Why, you foolish girl! surely it is not this that has put you into such a
passion?"
"I won't have it! How dared they! The 'American Warbler,' indeed! Do they
think I will overlook such insolence and go to their old concert after that
public insult! No, I won't put up with it, so there!" and a flood of tears
brought relief to the overcharged heart.
"Dexie, they never intended to hurt your feelings; it is only a mistake on
your part to think so for a moment. Why, it is quite a joke, one that the
audience will not be slow in appreciating, I'll warrant. Come, dry your
eyes, and never mind this announcement."
But Dexie flung herself on the bed, sobbing through her tears: "Oh, papa,
what made you make me say I would whistle when I did not want to from the
first. I did not think they would treat me so meanly, or I never would have
consented.
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