, goodness knows what would have happened to us if they weren't!"
cried Nora. "Besides they 're not nearly so much better as you think.
And the only reason why they're better is that Uncle Risborough left us
some money, and Connie's come to live here. And you and mother do
nothing but say horrid things about her, behind her back!"

She looked at her sister with accusing eyes. But Alice tossed her head,
and declared she wasn't going to be lectured by her younger sister. "You
yourself told mother this morning that Connie had insulted you."

"Yes, and I was a beast to say so!" cried the girl "She meant it awfully
well. Only I thought she thought I had been trying to sponge on her;
because I said something about having no dresses for the Commem. balls,
even if I wanted to 'come out' then--which I don't!--and she
straightaway offered to give me that dress in Brandon's. And I was
cross, and behaved like a fiend. And afterwards Connie said she was
awfully sorry if she'd hurt my feelings."

And suddenly Nora's brown eyes filled with tears.

"Well, you get on with her," said Alice, with fresh impatience--"and I
don't. That's all there is to it. Now do go away and let me get on
with the hat."

* * * * *

That night, after Connie had finished her toilet for the night and was
safely in bed, with a new novel of Fogazzaro before her and a reading
lamp beside her, she suddenly put out her arms, and took Annette's
apple-red countenance--as the maid stooped over her to straighten the
bed-clothes--between her two small hands.

"Netta, I've had a real bad day!"

"And why, please, my lady?" said Annette rather severely, as she
released herself.

"First I had a quarrel with Nora--then some boring people came to
lunch--then I had a tiresome ride--and now Aunt Ellen has been pointing
out to me that it's all my fault she has to get a new dress, because
people will ask me to dinner-parties. I don't want to go to
dinner-parties!"

And Connie fell back on her pillows, with a great stretch, her black
brows drawn over eyes that still smiled beneath them.

"It's very ungrateful of you to talk of a tiresome ride--when that
gentleman took such pains to get you a nice horse," said Annette, still
tidying and folding as she moved about the room. Constance watched her,
her eyes shining absently as the thoughts passed through them. At
last she said:

"Do come here, Annette!"

Annette came, rather unwillingly.