..."
Over Flora's face passed a look of bewilderment, while Loveday, her
moment of self-criticism gone, stood trembling with eager happiness.
Then Miss Le Pettit spoke, lightly and kindly.
"Surely I have seen you before, my girl?" she asked. And, turning to the
little group of her friends, added:
"She has such a striking air, 'twould be difficult to forget her."
Yet, till this moment, Miss Le Pettit had forgotten everything save that
air. Forgotten her careless suggestion, her prettily given promise, her
praise. Forgotten even the pleasant glow such evident worship as this
village girl's had stirred in her. She had had so much worship since!
Who can blame her for not remembering some idle words her artistic
perceptions had prompted three weeks earlier? It had been a fantastic
suggestion at best, as a girl of sense would have known, treasuring it
merely for its kindly intention. After all, Miss Le Pettit would be far
more conspicuous dancing with a village maiden at the Flora than with a
gentleman suited to her in rank and estate. Since that day at Upper Farm
she had met just such a gentleman--he with the glossy whiskers and
handsome form who was nearest to her now, smiling at this little
encounter.
"Why, child," said Flora to Loveday, "you look very nice, I am sure.
But your place should be much further down the procession." Then, more
sharply: "Why do you stare so, girl?"
Loveday stood as one stricken, her cheek now as white as the sash she
was still holding in her shaking hands.
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