say that those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Of
course I know that if I didn't wear my goggles I shouldn't be good for
much."

"Do you mean that Miss Saunt ought to sport such things?" I exclaimed
with more horror than I meant to show.

"I don't prescribe for her; I don't know that they're what she requires."

"What's the matter with her eyes?" I asked after a moment.

"I don't exactly know; but I heard from her mother years ago that even as
a child they had had for a while to put her into spectacles and that
though she hated them and had been in a fury of disgust, she would always
have to be extremely careful. I'm sure I hope she is!"

I echoed the hope, but I remember well the impression this made upon
me--my immediate pang of resentment, a disgust almost equal to Flora's
own. I felt as if a great rare sapphire had split in my hand.




CHAPTER III


This conversation occurred the night before I went back to town. I
settled on the morrow to take a late train, so that I had still my
morning to spend at Folkestone, where during the greater part of it I was
out with my mother. Every one in the place was as usual out with some