"Come here, Floretta!" said Mrs. Paxton. "This lady wishes to see you."
Usually Floretta when asked to do anything, preferred to do something else.
This time, thinking that she saw an opportunity for a lark, she went promptly and paused beside her mother's chair.
"This is Mrs. Dayne, Floretta. Mrs. Dayne, this is my little daughter."
Floretta looked up and smiled, but said nothing. She had never been taught that she must reply courteously when spoken to.
Her pretty face pleased Mrs. Dayne, who was much the same sort of woman that Mrs. Paxton was. She wished that Floretta could be induced to perform.
Induced! She was already wondering if she would have a chance to show off.
The opportunity came soon, and she was delighted.
Mr. Cunningham had become drowsy, and his magazine dropped to the piazza floor.
In stooping to recover it, he hurt his gouty foot, and cried out.