“The what,” exclaimed Elinor Leyton, ungrammatically, as she turned round upon the Digue and confronted him.
“He means Miss Brandt!” interposed Margaret, hastily, “many people think that she is handsome!”
“No one could think otherwise,” responded Ralph. “Is she Spanish?”
“O! no; her parents were English. She comes from Jamaica!”
“Ah! a drop of Creole blood in her then, I daresay! You never see such eyes in an English face!”
“What’s the matter with her eyes?” asked Elinor sharply.
“They’re very large and dark, you know, Elinor!” said Mrs. Pullen, observing the cloud which was settling down upon the girl’s face, “but it is not everybody who admires dark eyes, or you and I would come off badly!”
“Well, with all due deference to you, my fair sister-in-law,” replied Ralph, with the stupidity of a selfish man who never knows when he is wounding his hearers, “most people give the preference to dark eyes in women. Anyway Miss Brandt (if that is her name) is a beauty and no mistake!”
“I can’t say that I admire your taste,” said Elinor, “and I sincerely hope that Miss Brandt will not force her company upon us whilst you are here. Margaret and I have suffered more than enough already in that respect! She is only half educated and knows nothing of the world, and is altogether a most uninteresting companion. I dislike her exceedingly!”
“Ah! don’t forget her singing!” cried Margaret, unwittingly.