"They do for pretty girls like me," answered Queenie, with a saucy nod at her sister. "But, mamma, did Uncle Robbie write? Is he getting well? Is he coming home soon?"
"Ah, the best of the news is yet to come," exclaimed Georgina, who was in brilliant spirits. "We are to go out to Uncle Robbie, you and I, and Syd, and mamma, and have a continental tour with him. Isn't that glorious news?"
Little Queenie's bright eyes danced with joy.
"Mamma, is it true?" she panted, breathlessly.
"Yes, dear, it is quite true," said Mrs. Lyle, looking quite happy. "He has sent us a check, and we are to go over in the Europa, which sails three months from now. We are to employ ourselves in the interim polishing up our French."
"Hurrah for Uncle Rob!" exclaimed the delighted little Queenie, boyishly waving her hat around her head, "he is a perfect fairy prince. The dream of my life has been to go to Europe."
"I think you will need to polish more than your French, Queenie," exclaimed Sydney, peevishly. "Your manners are as rude as a school-boy's!"
"And yours are as prim as an old maid's!" retorted Queenie, maliciously, for Sydney's perpetual fault-finding was a thorn in the flesh to the petted little creature.
Sydney flushed crimson at the retort. Her years were verging so near to the line of old-maidenhood that she was particularly sensitive on the subject. She now said angrily:
"Mamma, can you sit silently there and permit Queenie to address me so disrespectfully?"