'Yes. We hate all beady ladies, don't we, Sara?'
'Yes; but it's my turn.' However, she said it half-heartedly as she stopped drawing the shining jewels lightly through her slim fingers, and began gently to swing the fleur-de-lys back and forth like a pendulum that glanced bewitchingly in the light.
Miss Levering knew that the next phase would be to try it on, but for the moment Sara had still half an ear for general conversation.
'We hate them to have hard things on their shoulders!' Cecil explained.
'On their shoulders?' Miss Levering asked.
'Here, just in the way of our heads.'
'Yes, bead-trimming on their dresses,' explained the little girl.
'Hard stuff that scratches when they hold you tight.' Cecil cuddled his impudent round face luxuriously on the soft lace-covered shoulder of the visitor, and laughed up in her face.
'Aunts are very beady,' said Sara, absent-mindedly, as she tried the effect of the glitter against her night-gown.
'Grandmothers are worse,' amended Cecil. 'They're beady and bu-gly, too.'