"I think he did feel so," returned Eloise, her manner quiet again. "That
was an example of the way you overreach yourself. The word presumption
on your lips applied to uncle Harry determined grandfather to let the
child come."

"You think he really has sent for her then!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham.
"You think that is what the telegram meant! I'm sure of it, too." Then
after a minute's exasperated thought, "I believe you are right. He is
just contrary enough for that. If I had urged him to let the little
barbarian come, he couldn't have been induced to do so. That wasn't
clever of me!" The speaker made the admission in a tone which implied
that in general her cleverness was unquestioned. "Well, I hope she will
worry him out of his senses, and I don't think there is much doubt of
it. It may turn out all for the best, Eloise, after all, and lead him
to appreciate us." Mrs. Evringham cast a glance at the mirror and patted
her waved hair. "And yet I'm anxious, very anxious. He might take a
fancy to the girl," she added thoughtfully.

"I'm such a poor-spirited creature," remarked Eloise.

"What now?"

"I ought to be strong enough to leave you since you will not come; to
leave this roof and earn my own living, some way, any way; but I'm too
much of a coward."

"I should hope so," returned her mother briefly. "You'd soon become one
if you weren't at starting. Girls bred to luxury, as you have been, must
just contrive to live well somehow. They can't stand anything else."