"Mrs. Dumps' daughter."
"Zara Dumps--Butterfly?"
"Yes. You know her as well as I do, Clarice. Sarah Dumps is her name, although she chooses to call herself Zara. She was always a most disagreeable girl, as I knew when I had anything to do with her in the Sunday School. That was before she went away to appear on the stage as Butterfly."
"I never did think much of her," said Clarice, contemptuously, "and, indeed, I never thought about her at all, until I learned accidentally that Ferdy admired her."
"And she admires Ferdy," said Prudence, panting, and with her dark eyes flashing. "I hate her! Oh, how I hate her! It is wonderful, all the same, Clarice, how that dowdy little country girl has blossomed into a well-dressed woman of the world."
"All superficial, Prudence. I dare say she's as ignorant as ever. I know from what little I saw of her at Church festivals and school treats, that she couldn't speak English."
"She speaks it very well now," said Prudence, bitterly; "well enough, at all events to tell me that I must give up Ferdy."
"And you did--at that minx's bidding?" Clarice clenched her fist so that the glove split. "I would have turned her out of the house--the insolent creature. To dare to love Ferdy--to dare to address you in such a way. What did you say?"
"At first I laughed at her, but when she spoke--"
"Well," asked Clarice, seeing that the girl hesitated, "what did she say?"