"Oh, yes, she is; she is following us. She could not find anything quiet
enough to put on."

"Quiet enough to put on! What do you mean?"

"Oh, my dear, her wardrobe is beyond description. She absolutely wanted
to come to poor Gwin's quiet little tea party in a dress fit for a ball,
flounced and frilled and laced and ribboned, and with a train to it,
absolutely a train, although she is not fifteen yet."

Bessie could not help laughing. "I am sorry she is fond of dress," she
answered; "I can't bear that sort of girl."

"Oh, you'll positively loathe her, Bessie. I quite pity you at the
thought of having to walk with her this afternoon."

"My dear Alice, we must make the best of it," answered Bessie, "and I
don't suppose she will quite kill me; she will be amusing at any rate."

"Amusing enough to those who have not got to live with her day and
night," answered Alice in a very discontented voice. "Oh, and here she
comes," she added; "and, look, she is running and racing down the road
and waving her hands to us. Oh, Bessie, it is intolerable! Don't you
pity me?"

"What! is that the girl?" cried Bessie. "How very--"

"How very what?" asked Alice.

"How very pretty she is!"