that intended by the two who could make no protest.
To be sure, it stood at last, in gray granite magnificence, on the crest of Edgewood Hill, a palace without and within; but to those for whom it was built had never come, through the years of its being, a single June holiday.
It was this that some of the residents were discussing, as they crocheted, knitted, or embroidered in Miss Major's room on a dull May morning.
"Too bad June Holiday couldn't have lived just a little longer!" Mrs. Bonnyman sighed.
"What would she say if she knew how her wishes were ignored!" Miss Castlevaine shook her head.
"Regular prison house!" snapped Mrs. Crump.
"Well, I'm glad to be here if I do have to obey rules," confessed a meek little woman with grayish, sandy hair. "It's a lovely place, and there has to be rules where there's so many."
"There don't have to be hair-crimping rules, Mrs. Prindle--huh!"
As the curly-headed maker of the hated law walked across the lawn. Miss Castlevaine sent her an annihi