"It was Lady Arthur, and no mistake," Mrs. Hammond went on. "The cook told me so herself. She told me Lady Arthur said one day that your Kitty was the prettiest and sweetest girl in the village, and the beauty of the place. Cook says Lady Arthur called her, 'Our village beauty.' That's something to blush for, isn't it, Kitty?"
I suppose I did blush. Mother looked hard at Mrs. Hammond, and then hard at me.
"Kitty has got a pleasant face," she said slowly. "That's not Kitty's doing. It's a gift. I hope she will be thankful for it, as for all other gifts from above. But it won't be a 'sweet' face long, if she takes to being vain and conceited. There's nothing spoils prettiness like thinking a lot about oneself. And you're doing the best you can to make her."
"Kitty's not going to be vain or conceited," said Mrs. Hammond, who, I think, was as surprised as I was at mother's long speech. "Kitty is going to be her dear little humble self. Why, dear me! it don't make a girl conceited to be told she's pretty when she is pretty. Kitty can't help knowing that, every time she looks in the glass. No good comes of denying that white's white, Mrs. Phrynne."
"Nobody need deny it," mother answered; "and no need to talk about it, neither."
"Maybe not; but all the world can't sit mum, for ever and a day," said Mrs. Hammond, with a laugh. "You don't care about looks, do you, Kitty? You're too sensible a girl."
"I don't know," I said. "I shouldn't like to be ugly."
"That's true enough; true of anybody," said Mrs. Hammond, and she laughed again. "Well, you may thank your stars you're not ugly."
Mother lifted her head up again to look at Mrs. Hammond. "No," she said; "it's to be hoped Kitty 'll not do anything so foolish. I hope she will thank God for His gifts. The stars haven't much to do with it, anyway."
Mrs. Hammond had had enough, I suppose, for she said good-bye, and went off, beckoning to me to follow. Mother did not try to keep me back.