“I—I did not pay much attention to what she said about herself,” Nan replied. “Only her name. That’s Riggs.”
“And that’s homely enough,” scoffed Bess.
“She is not homely,” Nan confessed. “That is, I think she may be quite pretty when she isn’t angry. And she had on a dress that would have made you gasp, Bess.”
“Was it so pretty?”
“No; but it was of very rich material, and daringly cut,” said her friend.
“Where is she now?” demanded Bess, standing up to look over the day coach in which they now rode, for the chair-car with the broken rod had been left behind and the train was hurrying on to the junction.
“I think she went into the dining car, forward,” said Nan.
“Humph! I wish we had. We could see out better.”
“But we have a nice lunch, you know,” Nan objected.
“Just the same, it’s common to eat lunch out of a shoe-box on a train. I don’t know what mother was thinking of. And we could have seen that girl with the fancy dress in the dining car.”