head and a basket of fruit in her arms, as a young street-vendor?"

"She would certainly look outlandish, ma'am," was all Mrs. Lear could
manage.

Loveday's thoughts flew of a sudden to the ribands she had disturbed in
Cherry's lap, and for the first time in her life, till now so proudly
above such matters in its aloofness, she yearned over fineries. If such
as those could admit her into the company of such as this! She thought
enviously of that pale pink, even of the yellows and reds she had seen
in Bugletown, since such deep tones seemed to the taste of this
wonderful creature.

But Miss Le Pettit, still staring at her, changed her note.

"I was wrong," she exclaimed, "that face needs no gaudy hues, those
white cheeks need nothing but that red mouth to set them off, and that
black hair. She should be white, all white, should she not, Mrs. Lear?
A tragic bride from the south, languishing in our cold land. 'Twould
make a fine subject for a painting, though I fear beyond my brush.
I never can get my faces to look as sad as I could wish them to."

There was something engaging and almost childlike about the heiress as
she spoke those words, but recollecting herself she resumed:

"Never mind the portrait, but I vow I will have you for my attendant at
the Flora, that I will. Now, Mrs. Lear, you shall not protest, I always
have my way when I set my heart on a thing, you know. I am going to
dance in the Flora this year, 'tis a charming rural custom, and the
gentry should help to preserve it. Besides, my name is Flora, so I