“You could have been devotion itself, Florrie, I know,” he said. “But devotion to a bad cause? However,” seeing that she shrank from the allusion, “we need not touch upon that. I’ll do what I can to help you in this little matter, I promise you.”
“At least you can help me to keep the girl out of Trixie’s way—Trixie and that horrid Mabella Forsyth. There is no saying what they mightn’t do if she’s an innocent, inexperienced sort of creature, as she can’t but be. And very pretty, too—extraordinarily pretty, by her mother’s account; that won’t make ugly Mab like her any better either.”
“I thought she—Miss Forsyth—prided herself on being plain, and was sincerely indifferent about looks,” said Major Winchester, rather inconsequently.
Florence laughed scornfully.
“My dear Rex,” she said. “So you believe that! You are not more than a child yourself in some ways. I shall have to protect you as well as Miss Imogen.”
“Imogen! What a pretty name!” he said.
“I don’t like it; high-flown and romantic, I call it,” said Florence as she left the room.