"And your name is Flora something?" answered Ermengarde, looking up with proud defiance in her face. "And you were speaking about me to a girl called Kate, and you abused my dress, and said that I was a little piece of gorgeousness, and that I was only twelve years old. I am not twelve—I am fourteen and three months."
"Oh, my dear child, you should not have been eavesdropping."
"I wasn't. You spoke out very loud. I thought you knew I must hear you."
"Dear, dear, I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt your feelings, really, Miss Wilton. Of course the dress is lovely. Catch Kate or me aspiring to anything half so fine. But then, you did look very young in it. Are you really fourteen! You don't look it."
"Yes, I am fourteen and three months."
"Of course that makes a great difference. Come, now, let's be friends. My name is Flora St. Leger, and mother and I are going to stay at Glendower for a couple of days. Are you staying here?"
"Yes, with my father. We came to-day."
"Oh, I suppose you are Lilias Russell's friend. Isn't she a prim little piece?"
"I don't know," answered Ermengarde angrily. "I only consider that she is the dearest and most beautiful girl in the world."
"Oh, folly! she can't hold a candle to you. I'd like to see you when you're dressed for your first drawing-room. You know, Ermengarde—I may call you Ermengarde, may I not—I did say something very nice about your face, even when I abused your dress. You heard that part too, didn't you, sly monkey?"