There they all three are, in the yard," I remarked, pointing out of the
window at the Opportunities, who were discoursing earnestly with Joseph.
"Of course, I'm too young _now_ to judge of such matters, but if it was
_I_ who had to choose--"

"Well?"

"I'd toss up a penny, and whichever side came, I'd take--"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Barrymore."

"Mr. Barrymore! But he has no title! I might as well have stayed in
America."

"I said that, because I think he'd be the hardest to get. The other
two--"

"What about them?"

"Well, you don't need to decide between them yet. Just wait till we've
travelled a little further, and see whether you come across anything
better worth having."

"Oh, Beechy, I never know whether you're poking fun at me or not,"
sighed poor Mamma, so forlornly that I was sorry--for a whole
minute--that I'd been born wicked; and I tied her tulle in a lovely bow
at the back of her neck, to make up.

IX

A CHAPTER OF REVELATIONS

Maida really was the prettiest thing ever created, when I looked down at
her from Mamma's window, as she arranged flowers and cups and saucers on
the table which the monk had carried out for her, into the garden. He
had quite a gallant air, in his innocent way, as if he were an old beau,
instead of a monk, and his poor face seemed to fall when Mamma's
untitled Opportunity--all unconscious that he was an Opportunity--saw
Maida, left Joseph, and sprang to her assistance. But no wonder those
two men, so different one from the other, found the same joy in waiting
on her! The morning sun sprinkled gold on her hair, and made her fair
skin look milky white, like pearl; then, when she would pass under the
arbour of trees, the shadows threw a glimmering veil over her, and
turned her into a mermaid deep down in the green light of the sea.

I don't believe our glorified chauffeur would have stopped talking motor
talk and run about with dishes for Mamma or me as he did for Maida. And
I wonder if one of us had adopted that little scarecrow of a black dog,
whether he would have given it a bath in the fountain and dried it with
his pocket-handkerchief?

That is often the way. If a girl has set her face against marriage and
would rather be good to the poor than flirt, every man she's reluctantly
forced to meet promptly falls in love with her, while all the thoroughly
nice, normal female things like Mamma and me have to take a back seat.

By the way, Mamma and I are literally in th