"Look!" said Bertha Haughton. "There are your opposite neighbours, Vanity and Vexation of Spirit. I'll call them over and introduce them."
"Oh, please don't!" cried Peggy, under her breath, catching her companion's arm. But it was too late.
"V. V.," called Bertha, in her clear, hearty voice, "come and be introduced to Miss Montfort."
The girls turned and came forward, one eagerly, the other rather unwillingly.
"Miss Viola Vincent, Miss Vivia Varnham," said Bertha Haughton, "this is Miss—Peggy, did you say?—Miss Peggy Montfort."
Miss Varnham simply bowed, but Viola Vincent advanced with outstretched hand.
"How do you do?" she cried; and she lifted Peggy's hand to the level of her chin, and shook it gently from side to side. "Awfully glad to see you! It's been too perfectly horrid to have this room empty; hasn't it, V?"
"A great bore!" assented Miss Varnham, who looked thoroughly bored herself.
Both girls had entered the room, and were standing, looking about them. Peggy stood, too, feeling unspeakably shy and awkward, and not knowing what to say. Bertha Haughton gave her a quick, friendly glance, and made a slight motion with her head toward a chair. Peggy started, and coloured violently.
"I beg your pardon!" she stammered. "Won't you sit down? here are two chairs; and you and I can sit on the bed!" she turned to Miss Haughton with an air of relief; she seemed already an old friend.