"Who—Mrs. Crane?"
"No, Rosa Marie. You see, we don't know exactly how old she is—Mabel didn't think to ask—but she seems big enough to be lots smarter than she is. We're rather disappointed in her."
"I'm not," protested Mabel, loyally. "She's just slow because she hasn't any little brothers and sisters. She's a dear child."
"Cheer up, Mabel," soothed Henrietta. "As long as she's beautiful she doesn't need to be bright."
At this, Marjory looked at Jean, then at Bettie, and smiled an odd, significant smile. Here was a chance to get even with Henrietta; and, unconsciously, Mabel helped.
"She's beautiful to me," said Mabel, "and she's ever so cunning."
"What color are her eyes?"
"Dark," said Marjory. "Darker than yours."
"Then she's a brunette?"