"Has Dr. Hartwell adopted you? Pauline said so, but she is so heedless that I scarcely believed her, particularly when it seemed so very improbable."
"Hush, Cornelia! Why, you need Pauline's tuition about as much as Fred Vincent, I am disposed to think. Don't be so inquisitive; it pains her," remonstrated Clara, laying her arm around Beulah's shoulder as she spoke.
"Nonsense! She is not so fastidious, I will warrant. At least, she might answer civil questions."
"I always do," said Beulah.
Cornelia smiled derisively, and turned off, with the parting taunt:
"It is a mystery to me what Eugene can see in such a homely, unpolished specimen. He pities her, I suppose."
Clara felt a long shiver creep over the slight form, and saw the ashen hue that settled on her face, as if some painful wound had been inflicted. Stooping down, she whispered:
"Don't let it trouble you. Cornelia is hasty, but she is generous, too, and will repent her rudeness. She did not intend to pain you; it is only her abrupt way of expressing herself."
Beulah raised her head, and, putting back the locks of hair that had fallen over her brow, replied coldly:
"It is nothing new; I am accustomed to such treatment. Only professing to love Eugene I did not expect her to insult one whom he had commissioned her to assist, or at least sympathize with."