"I've never encouraged you to find fault with your friends, Selina," reproved her mother. "No doubt Amanthus had her grounds."
"I haven't a doubt she had," from Auntie. "I've watched Amanthus before. If a thing's true, Lavinia, why shouldn't Selina say it? She'll get along the better for recognizing it. Refusing to admit a fact doesn't make it less so."
"I've always found Amanthus sweetly feminine," said Mamma concisely.
"And there isn't a man won't agree with you," from Auntie. "She's exactly to the pattern of what they look for in women. I found that out before ever Amanthus was born."
"Ann Eliza, I'm astonished at your tone!"
"The tone goes with the rankle that's been in me a good many years, Lavinia."
Selina and her group met with Maud this same evening to talk the afternoon over as was their habit after an occasion. The Addisons were prosperous and their parlors boasted velvet carpets, mirrors over the mantels, lace curtains stiff with pattern and the seemly rest of what handsome parlors at that day should boast.
Again Amanthus took exception to the enthusiasm over Miss Boswell. Perhaps there was something in the name of the lady that was suggestive of the especial line of attack. "I don't see anything so good-looking about her," she declared. "She's too dark; she looks like an Indian squab."
Amanthus was given to occasional lapses in her words, and while as a rule the others were tolerant with her, this as concerning Miss Boswell was too much.
"Meaning squaw, we are to presume?" said Maud—generous-spirited, whole-souled Maud, scornful of such assets as mere red-brown hair and splendid skin, the emphasis with her being laid on loftier attainments!