"I don't know what I shall do with that child," said Grace, as
Edith's footsteps died away. I sometimes wish I had left her where
I found her."
"Why, I thought her a very bright little creature," said Kitty,
and her companion replied,
"She's too bright, and that's the trouble. She imitates me in
everything, walks like me, talks like me, and yesterday I found
her in the drawing-room going through with a pantomime of
receiving calls the way I do. I wish you could have seen her
stately bow when presented to an imaginary stranger."
"Did she do credit to you?" Kitty asked, and Grace replied,
"I can't say that she did not, but I don't like this disposition
of hers--to put on the airs of people above her. Now if she were
not a poor--"
"Look, look!" interrupted Kitty, "that must be the five hundred
dollar piano sent up from Boston," and she directed her
companion's attention to the long wagon which was passing the
house on the way to Collingwood.
This brought the conversation back from the aspiring Edith to
Richard Harrington, and as old Rachel soon came in to remove her
mistress' breakfast, Kitty took her leave, saying as she bade her
friend good morning,
"I trust it will not be long before you know him.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25