Jean Webster

“ Patty asked crossly. "I don't see anything to laugh at in this beastly place. Always having to do what you don't want to do when you most don't want to do it. Just the same, day after day: get up by bells, eat by bells, sleep by bells. I feel like some sort of a delinquent living in an asylum."
Priscilla treated this outburst with the silence it deserved, and Patty turned back to her perusal of the rain-soaked campus.
"I wish something would happen," she said discontentedly. "I think I'll put on a mackintosh and go out in search of adventure." ”

“ Patty shuddered. "Think what I escaped. And all the time I was grumbling because nothing ever happens here!"
A few days later she appeared at the table with a further announcement: "I have the pleasure of offering for your perusal, young ladies, the third and last sequel in the great Stanthrope-Pond-McKay mystery. And I hereby take the opportunity of apologizing to Mr. Stanthrope for my unworthy suspicions. He is not a burglar, nor a detective, nor a murderer, nor even a lawyer, but just a poor young man with a buried romance." ”

“ Priscilla laughed. "But yours doesn't happen to be the last. I know a still later one."
"Later than Patty's?" the table demanded.
"Yes, later than Patty's. It isn't really a sequel; it's just an appendix. I shouldn't tell you, only you'll find it out, so I might as well. Miss McKay has invited two men for the junior party, and both have accepted. As two men are hard to manage, she has (by request) asked me to take care of one of them—namely, Mr. Frederick K. Stanthrope."
Patty sighed. "I see a whole series of sequels stretching away into the future. It's worse than the Elsie Books!" ”