"I wonder how she and Rose will get on," thought Grace. "Rose's temper is as gusty as this November night, and I should judge those purple eyes can flash with the Danton fire, too. When two thunder-clouds meet, there is apt to be an uproar. I shall not be surprised if there is war in the camp before long."
Her door opened softly. Grace turned round, and saw Eeny in a long night-dress, looking like a spirit.
"May I come in, Grace?"
"It is time you were in bed," said Grace, turning up the lamp, and beginning to unbraid her hair.
Eeny came in and sat down on a low stool at Grace's feet.
"Oh, Grace, isn't she splendid?"
"Who?"
"You know whom I mean—Kate."
"She is very handsome," Grace said quietly, going on with her work.
"Handsome! She is lovely? She is glorious! Grace, people talk about Rose being pretty; but she is no more to Kate than—than just nothing at all."