was a darling to behold -- in a big hat with a wreath
of blue flowers, her hair tied with enormous blue silk
bows, her short skirts frilled with eyelet embroidery,
her slender silk legs, her little white sandals. Ma-
dame's maid had not yet struck the Japanese gong,
and all the pupils were out on the lawn, Amelia, in
her clean, ugly gingham and her serviceable brown
sailor hat, hovering near Lily, as usual, like a common,
very plain butterfly near a particularly resplendent
blossom. Lily really noticed her. She spoke to her
confidentially; she recognized her fully as another of
her own sex, and presumably of similar opinions.

"Ain't boys ugly, anyway?" inquired Lily of
Amelia, and a wonderful change came over Amelia.
Her sallow cheeks bloomed; her eyes showed blue
glitters; her little skinny figure became instinct with
nervous life. She smiled charmingly, with such
eagerness that it smote with pathos and bewitched.

"Oh yes, oh yes," she agreed, in a voice like a quick
flute obbligato. "Boys are ugly."

"Such clothes!" said Lily.

"Yes, such clothes!" said Amelia.

"Always spotted," said Lily.

"Always covered all over with spots," said Amelia.