'Don't you ever wear flowers in your hair, Miss Carlyon?' said the latter, as she regarded with honest admiration the glories of Dulcie's ruddy hair shot with gold.
'No.'
'Why?'
'So few tints go well with my hair: people call it red,' said Dulcie.
'People who are your enemies.'
'I never had an enemy,' said Dulcie simply.
'That I can well believe. Then it must be those who are envious of your loveliness,' added Finella frankly.
'A pink or crimson rose would never do in my hair, Miss Melfort.'
'But a white one would,' said Finella, selecting a creamy white rose from a conservatory vase, and pinning it in Dulcie's hair, giving it a kindly pat as she did so. 'Look, grandmamma; doesn't she look lovely now?'
And the frank and impulsive girl would have kissed poor Dulcie but for a cold and somewhat discouraging stare she encountered in the eyes of Lady Fettercairn.