She was so young and healthy and happy that she could still see the joke in an annoyance.
Her uncle looked at her beseechingly.

"Can't you manage somehow ?" said he.

"I'll go down to the store and buy something." "Down to the store!" repeated his sister, contemptuously.

"It's one o'clock now." He looked at the kitchen clock, visible through the open door, and saw that it indicated half-past twelve, but he said nothing.
Flora was frowning reflectively, while her cheeks dimpled.

"I tell you what I'll do, mother," said she.