"Well, she is,—partly. Then I'll give you Mary. She's a good American."
"Americans have no taste. Is there a Norwegian girl on the place? I had a Norwegian maid once, and she—"
"No, there isn't," said Mona, deeming it wise to cut short another string of reminiscences. "You try Mary, and if you don't like her, we'll see what we can do."
"Well—send her to me—and we'll see."
Mona rang for Mary, and then the two girls went down to the pleasant and cool veranda.
"It's lucky you have such shoals of servants," said Patty. "At our house, we couldn't give a guest a choice of nationalities."
"Oh, Patty, isn't she a terror?"
"Who, Mary?"
"No! Aunt Adelaide! It gives me the creeps to look at her. She's so slight and fragile, I expect to see her go to pieces like a soap bubble."
"She IS like a soap bubble, isn't she! But, Mona, you mustn't talk about her like that. I feel sorry for her, she looks so ill and weak. I think we ought to do all we can to cheer her up, and to restore her health and strength. I'm sure she's refined and dainty in her way."