“Thanks,” said Belle. She squatted down on a wooden bench in an ungainly fashion, crossing one leg over the other.
Letitia now advanced; she had been standing near the door.
“Who is that young person?” said Belle, raising her very short-sighted eyes, and staring hard at Lettie.
“You know quite well who I am,” replied Letitia. “I am the cousin who has always lived with the twins. We are all three eighteen, and we are coming out in about a week or a fortnight.”
“We are not coming out,” said Eileen.
“Coming out!” cried Marjorie. “Now, Lettie, for goodness’ sake, don’t be silly. You know that unpleasant matter has been arranged. Perhaps you would like to go down to the drawing-room to mother and Mrs. Acheson. Eileen and I have a great deal to say to Belle.”
“No, I mean to stay and listen,” replied Lettie. “I may have a good deal to say to Belle on my own account.”
“Stay, if you wish to,” said Belle; “but I don’t suppose for a moment our conversation will interest you. You are fashionable; and that is quite enough.—Marjorie, what is it you have to say?”
“I want to ask you all about your life, dear,” said Marjorie. “Eileen and I have left school. We have come home, and mother wishes us to go into society—poor, dear little mother, the best of souls; but we are not going to allow her to order our lives.”
“Certainly not,” said Eileen, “we are going to take our lives into our own hands, and we wish to consult you about the matter, Belle. You are—where did you say?”