to long to tear it off her
back.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE MORE BEAUTIFUL FACE.

Two tall girls were standing near the piano; one had just sung a song
in a very brilliant style, the other was complimenting her; the
gentlemen had not yet come in.

"Flora, do look at that queer little personage over there!" exclaimed
the singer, glancing in Ermengarde's direction. "Did you ever see such
a little comicality? Why, she can't be more than twelve years old, and
she is dressed in much older style than you or I."

"Stop, Kate, I'm sure she hears you," said Flora.

"I don't care if she does, conceited little monkey. Who in the world
is she?"

"Her name is Ermengarde Wilton. Yes, of course, the dress is
unsuitable, but small piece of gorgeousness that she is, I'd give a
good deal to possess her handsome face; and so would you, for the
matter of that, Kate."

Ermengarde was standing near a window. Now she pushed a muslin
curtain aside, and hid herself behind its folds.

"There! She did hear you this time, Flora," said Kate.

"I meant her to," replied the other. "You were humiliating her so
horribly, Kate."

The two girls whispered a little longer, then they parted company.
Ermengarde stood behind the shelter of the window curtain. Her heart
was beating fast, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes had a triumphant
light in them.

Yes, she had heard what those horrid girls were saying. She had heard
every word. They had abused her dress, but they had praised her face.
This praise made up for all. What mattered the dress which could be so
easily removed, compared with the face which would remain.

Ermengarde's heart thrilled within her at the delicious words of
flattery. These grown-up girls envied _her!_ Oh, she could bear
anything after that.

She was standing thus, thinking her own thoughts, when the light swish
of silken drapery near caused her to look round, and to her
astonishment the girl who was called Flora stood in the shelter of the
window by her side.

"I hope I am not crowding you," she said in a gracious voice to
Ermengarde. "It is so hot in the drawing-room; I have just come here
to get cool before the gentlemen come in."

"You don't disturb me at all," said Ermengarde.

"Thank you. Are you Miss Wilton? I think you must be. My mother knows
your father very well."

"And your name is Flora something?" answered Ermengarde, looking up
with proud defiance in her face. "And you were speaking about me to