"Yes, she is pretty, with a pink and white complexion, blue eyes and
golden hair, which curls naturally, and which she still wears hanging
down her back so as to show it to good advantage, and she a woman of
thirty."

"No, Geraldine, you are mistaken," Mr. Jerrold said, quickly. "You
forget that she was married at seventeen, and Bessie is only eight; so,
at the most, Daisy cannot be more than twenty-six."

"I am glad you know her age so well," Mrs. Geraldine retorted, "I think
twenty-six too old to wear one's hair streaming down the back. We were
all disgusted, and especially Lady Jane, whose room was just across the
hall, directly opposite hers. She told me herself that she would never
have accepted Mrs. Smithers' invitation had she known that adventuress
was to be there. And yet she was very kind to little Bessie. Indeed, no
one could look at that child and not love her at once, and pity her,
too, for the influence with which she was surrounded."

"Yes, Bessie--tell me of her," and Miss McPherson leaned forward
eagerly. "They pretend she was named for me. Then why not call her
Betsey, if that is her name?"

"Would you call a child Betsey?" Hannah asked, joining for the first
time in the conversation.

"No, of course not. I think it horrid, but if I was christened Betsey,
no power on earth could turn me into a Bessie; but go on and tell me
about her," and she turned to Mrs. Geraldine, who continued: