Flossie and Reginald lingered after the others had gone. He gathered
some blossoming weeds which grew near the cottage, thinking thus to
cheer her, and to turn her mind from the hated English history.

She took the flowers, and for a time she laughed and talked so brightly
that she seemed her sunny self.

He was just thinking how happy she looked when suddenly she leaned
toward him, and said earnestly:

"Do you s'pose Bob was mistaken?"

Reginald hesitated. He ardently admired Bob, but he also cared for dear
little Flossie, and longed to please her, so after a pause he said:

"My big brother knows _'most everything_, but just _p'r'aps_ he might
have been mistaken."

It was not much comfort, but it was better than if Reginald had insisted
that Bob's knowledge was absolute.

As Mrs. Dainty's carriage bowled along the avenue, the trees seemed
ablaze with autumn splendor, for the leaves that danced in the sunlight
were scarlet and gold, and the sunbeams flickered and shimmered like
merry elves. The light breeze tossed the plumes on Dorothy's hat, and
blew her golden curls about her lovely little face.

She leaned back in the carriage and laid her hand in Nancy's. Nancy's
fingers were quick to clasp Dorothy's, and for a time they sat listening
to what Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte Grayson were saying.

Then something made Nancy turn. A little figure was mincing along the
avenue; its shoes had very high heels, its stockings were pink, and its
dress a bright green. A showy hat with many-colored flowers crowned its
head, and as the carriage passed it waved a lace handkerchief, thus
setting her many bangles tinkling.

"That _was_ Patricia Lavine," said Nancy; "Mollie Merton said she saw
her just a few days ago."

"O dear!" said Dorothy, "and it's not nice to say that when Patricia has
just come back here to live, but truly she wasn't pleasant."

"I don't wonder you said, 'O dear,' for wherever she was, she made
somebody uncomfortable," Nancy said, which was indeed true.

Patricia was not wholly at fault. She dearly loved anything that was
showy, and her mother, who was a very ignorant woman, was quite as fond
of display.

She had never taught her little daughter to be kind or courteous, but
instead had laughed at her pert ways, and thought them amusing.

Patricia hastened along the avenue as fast as her little steeple heels
would permit, and when she saw Flossie and Reginald, she rushed toward
them, assuri