Ila laughed softly. "You baby!" she said.
Tiny frowned. "You know, Ila," she said coldly, "that I do not like to talk of such things."
"Well, you need not," said Ila, coolly.
Tiny lifted her brows. "I think you know you cannot talk to me of what I do not wish to hear," she said with great dignity.
Magdaléna turned to her, the warm light of approval in her eyes; and Ila, unabashed, rose and said, "I think I'll go over and talk scandal for awhile," and joined the older women, whose numbers had been reinforced.
Magdaléna longed to ask Tiny if she really had improved, but was too shy. Tiny said almost directly,—
"You look so intellectual, 'Léna. Are you? I feel quite afraid."
"Oh, no, no!" replied Magdaléna, hastily, "I really know very little; I wish I knew more." She hesitated a moment; it was difficult for her to expand even to the playmate of her childhood, but an alluring prospect had suddenly opened. "Of course you will have a great deal of leisure this summer," she added. "Shall we read together?"
Tiny rose with a sweet but rather forced smile. "I am not going to let you see how ignorant I am," she said. "But I feel very rude: I should go over and talk to Mrs. Yorba."
When they had gone, Magdaléna sat for a time staring straight before her, unheeding her mother's comments. The snub had been prettily administered, but it had cut deep into her sensitiveness. She realised that she was quite unlike these other girls of her own age, had never been like them; it was not Europe that had made the difference. "I would not care," she thought, "if they would keep away from me altogether. I have what I care much more for. But I must see them nearly every day and try to interest them. And I know they will find me as dull as when I gave those dreadful luncheons."