“No,” said Stasy, “but she is different She has always been so very, very good, you see. She has never been—well, rather mischievous, and wanting a lot of fun, you know.”
“But she doesn’t look dull,” said Hebe. “She has a very bright expression sometimes in her eyes. I am sure she has some fun in her too. I don’t think I could have been so attracted by her if she had not had fun in her; I am so fond of it myself,” she added naïvely.
“Oh yes,” said Stasy, “Blanchie is very quick, and very ready for fun too. But she never grumbles. If things we want don’t come, she is just content without I’m not like that. Next to fun, I like grumbling. I couldn’t live without it.”
Hebe smiled, but in her heart she was thinking that there were some grounds for complaint in the present life of these pretty and attractive girls. They attracted her curiously; they were so unlike others—so refined, and yet original; so perfectly well-bred, and yet so unconventional.
“I wish,” she began, but then she stopped. What she was going to wish was nothing very definite, and yet it was better, perhaps, left unexpressed.
“When I am married,” she thought, “I shall have more in my power in many ways. Norman will understand; he always does. I fear there would be no use in trying to get Lady Marth to be kind to them. She would only think it one of my ‘fads.’”
But suddenly Stasy started.
“I am afraid,” she said, “that I am going too far, and mamma and Blanche may be looking for me. Perhaps I had better go back now.”
“I don’t think they are likely to have come out yet,” said Hebe. “But I don’t want to make you uneasy, so perhaps you had better go back. Good-bye, and—I hope we may meet again soon.”
She held out her hand, and Stasy, looking at her as she took it, felt the indescribable charm of the sweet, sunshiny face.