"Nell, you ought not to speak before your elder sister," said Miss Davis, who, though an excellent lady, was rather prim in her ways and ideas.
"I hope you are quite well," said Phyllis politely; "will you take some tea?"
"I have just had some," said Hetty, "thank you. Do you never have tea with your mamma?"
"Oh, no," said the girls, with a smile of surprise.
"Little girls never do," said Miss Davis emphatically.
"I do always," said Hetty; she might have added, "except when she forgets all about me," but she did not think of that now.
"I did not know you had any mamma," said Phyllis coldly, not exactly meaning to be cruel, but feeling that Hetty was pretentious, and therefore vulgar, and that she ought to be kept down.
"How odd that you should not know your own aunt," said Hetty, a warm crimson rising in her cheeks, and her eyes kindling.
"My aunt never had a child," said Phyllis quietly.
"Not till she got Hetty," broke in Nell. "Phyllis, how can you be so unkind?"