"Let us have it, Claudia," said Mr. Middleton.
"Oh, papa! oh, uncle! I really cannot read it out—it is too absurd! Is there no way, I wonder, of stopping these reporters from giving their auction-book schedule of one's height, figure, complexion, and all that? Here, Bee—you read it, my dear," said Claudia, handing it to her cousin.
Bee took the paper and cast her eyes over the article in question; but as she did so her cheek crimsoned with blushes, and she laid the paper down.
"Read it, Bee," said Claudia.
"I cannot," answered Beatrice coldly.
"Why not?"
"It makes my eyes burn even to see it! Oh, Claudia, how dare they take such liberties with your name?"
"Why, every word of it is praise—high praise."
"It is fulsome, offensive flattery."
"Oh, you jealous little imp!" said Miss Merlin, laughing.