“Do you expect them to give us a very grand reception?”
She reflected a moment; she was addicted, as we know, to fine reflexion. “Well—to be nice.”
“My poor sweet child!” murmured her sister.
“What have I said that’s so silly?” Bessie asked.
“You’re a little too simple; just a little. It’s very becoming, but it pleases people at your expense.”
“I’m certainly too simple to understand you,” said our young lady.
Mrs. Westgate had an ominous pause. “Shall I tell you a story?”
“If you’d be so good. That’s what’s frequently done to amuse simple people.”
Mrs. Westgate consulted her memory while her companion sat at gaze of the shining sea. “Did you ever hear of the Duke of Green-Erin?”
“I think not,” said Bessie.