“Why not?  What did she do?” This in Clover’s voice.

“Well, she didn’t do anything, but she was distant and disagreeable.  I scarcely observed it at first, I was so pleased to see one of the old Hillsover girls; and I went on being very cordial.  Then Lilly tried to put me down by running over a list of her fine acquaintances, Lady this, and the Marquis of that,—­people whom she and her mother had known abroad.  It made me think of my old autograph book with Antonio de Vallombrosa, and the rest.  Do you remember?”

“Of course we do.  Well, go on.”

“At last she said something about Comte Ernest de Conflans,—­I had heard of him, perhaps?  He crossed in the steamer with ‘Mamma and me,’ it seems; and we have seen a great deal of him.  This appeared a good opportunity to show that I too have relations with the nobility, so I said yes, I had met him in Boston, and my sister had seen a good deal of him in Washington last winter.

“‘And what did she think of him?’ demanded Lilly.

“‘Well,’ said I, ’she didn’t seem to think a great deal about him.  She says all the young men at the French legation seem more than usually foolish, but Comte Ernest is the worst of the lot.  He really does look like an absolute fool, you know,’ I added pleasantly.  Now, girls, what was there in that to make her angry?  Can you tell?  She grew scarlet, and glared as if she wanted to bite my head off; and then she turned her back and would scarcely speak to me again.  Does she always behave that way when the aristocracy is lightly spoken of?”

“Oh, Rose,—­oh, Rose,” cried Clover, in fits of laughter, “did you really tell her that?”

“I really did.  Why shouldn’t I?  Is there any reason in particular?”

“Only that she is engaged to him,” replied Katy, in an extinguished voice.

“Good gracious!  No wonder she scowled!  This is really dreadful.  But then why did she look so black when she asked where we were going, and I said to your wedding?  That didn’t seem to please her any more than my little remarks about the nobility.”

“I don’t pretend to understand Lilly,” said Katy, temperately; “she is an odd girl.”

“I suppose an odd girl can’t be expected to have an even temper,” remarked Rose, apparently speaking with a hairpin in her mouth.  “Well, I’ve done for myself, that is evident.  I need never expect any notice in future from the Comtesse de Conflans.”

Cousin Helen heard no more, but presently steps sounded outside her door, and Katy looked in to ask if she were dressed, and if she might bring Rose in, a request which was gladly granted.  It was a pretty sight to see Rose with Cousin Helen.  She knew all about her already from Clover and Katy, and fell at once under the gentle spell which seemed always to surround that invalid sofa, begged leave to say “Cousin Helen” as the others did, and was altogether at her best and sweetest when with her, full of merriment, but full too of a deference and sympathy which made her particularly charming.