“You howling little beauty!” he responded, in a tone equally confidential. “Mother did not prepare me for this change. Goodness, Beth! you’ve grown up!”
“No, no. But you have,” she said, flutteringly.
He laughed. Then he tucked Beth’s plump little hand under his arm and led her into the drawing-room.
“Mater,” he said, for she chanced to be alone at the moment, “I introduce you to the ‘belle of the ball.’ What do you know about our little ‘Saint Elizabeth?’ Hasn’t she grown up?”
“Mercy, child!” murmured Mrs. Haven, and the lorgnette came into play to rescue her from absolute confusion. “I told you, Larry, how really pretty she had grown. In a few years, Beth, you will set the young men’s hearts aflame. Introduce her to some of the others—do, Larry. So she will not feel lonesome,” and the lady patted Beth’s arm with her lorgnette.
“And your Great-grandmother Lomis’ corals. I always envied your mother those beauties,” said the matron. “But I had no idea Priscilla had kept them all these years.”
“Why,” gasped Beth, finally stung to self-defense, “they are heirlooms!”
“Oh—yes—of course,” Mrs. Haven said. “But it isn’t every one who can afford to keep heirlooms, you know.”
Beth felt the sting in every word Larry’s mother uttered. She knew Mrs. Haven was antagonistic to her. Why?
“Do introduce her to some of the young folk, Larry,” his mother said impatiently.