"What a blessing you are, Wythie!" ejaculated Bruce fervently.
"Hester told me that Lester Baldwin admired Frances very much," said Prue. Her attempts at casual remarks were usually transparent and not very successful.
"Shows his sense!" commented Bruce.
"Frances deserves admiration," said Rob.
"She is very nice, of course," said Prue with her most grown-up air, which always made her seem decidedly less than sixteen. "But I don't think Frances is striking at all; she is only just a little pretty."
Basil and Bruce laughed and tweaked tall Prue's ear in the elder brotherly way of theirs which always tried her; it really was trying to have a B at each ear simultaneously. "Pretty Prudy!" they said together.
The two older Rutherfords made it their business to check Prue's vanity, which they considered the only defect in any Grey girl.
But Bartlemy stoutly defended her. "Don't you mind those two moles," he said, seeing Prue's cheeks reddening and her eyes dangerously near tears. "They don't know how artists feel about beauty. I can't imagine giving Frances more than a kindly thought when there's a tearing beauty in sight."
"Bart, have some caramels; I made them to-day," interposed Rob, offering the boys the result of her labours. "Taffy's bad for the digestion, so I never have any."
For in her turn Rob believed in checking Bartlemy's manifest desire to offer incense to Prue's handsome face; at least till she was long past sixteen, and somewhat less appreciative of that face herself.