Her eyes snapped, and the very poise of her chin spelled determination.
Very well, she would show them.

Was not Bertram bringing this man home because he was proud of her?
Mighty proud he would be if she had to call in half of Boston to get his dinner for him! Nonsense! She would get it herself.

Was not this the time, if ever, to be an oak?
A vine, doubtless, would lean and cling and telephone, and whine "I can't!" But not an oak.

An oak would hold up its head and say "I can!" An oak would go ahead and get that dinner.

She would be an oak.