They made splendid foils to each other; but in my opinion Sara carried the palm:  she was more piquant and animated; her colouring was brighter, and she had more expression; but Charlie’s Lily, as he called her, was quite as much admired, and indeed they were both striking-looking girls.

I saw that Uncle Max took a great deal of notice of Lesbia, who sat next to him.  I could not hear their conversation, but a pretty pink colour tinged Lesbia’s face, and her eyes grew dark and bright as she listened, and I saw her glance at her left hand where the half-hoop of diamonds glistened that Charlie had placed there; she had not quite forgotten the dear boy then, for I am sure she sighed, but the next moment she had turned from Uncle Max, and was engaged in an eager discussion with Sara about some private theatricals in which Sara was to take a part.

When we went back to the drawing-room we found Fraeulein in her favourite red silk dress, trying to repair the damage that Sooty had wrought in her half-knitted stocking, and Jill, looking very bored and uncomfortable, turning over the photograph album in a corner.  She looked awkward and sallow in her Indian muslin gown:  the flimsy stuff did not suit her any more than the pink coral beads she wore round her neck.  Her black locks bobbed uneasily over the book.  She looked bigger than ever when she stood up to speak to Lesbia.

‘How that child is growing!’ observed Aunt Philippa behind her fan to Fraeulein, whose round face was beaming with smiles at the entrance of the ladies.  ’That gown was made only a few weeks ago, and she is growing out of it already.  Jocelyn, my love, why do you hunch your shoulders so when, you talk to Lesbia?  I am always telling you of this awkward habit.’

Poor Jill frowned and reddened a little under this maternal admonition; her eyes looked black and fierce as she sat down again with her photographs.  This hour was always a penance to her; she could not speak or move easily, for fear of some remark from Aunt Philippa.  When her mother and Fraeulein interchanged confidences behind the big spangled fan, the poor child always thought they were talking about her.

Her bigness, her awkwardness, troubled Jill excessively.  Her clumsy hands and feet seemed always in her way.

‘I know I am the ugly duckling,’ she would say, with tears in her eyes; ’but I shall never turn into a swan like Sara and Lesbia,—­not that I want to be like them!’—­with a little scorn in her voice.  ’Lesbia is too tame, too namby-pamby, for my taste; and Sara is stupid.  She laughs and talks, but she never says anything that people have not said a hundred times before.  Oh, I am so tired of it all!  I grow more cross and disagreeable every day,’ finished Jill, who was very frank on the subject of her shortcoming.

I would have stopped and talked to Jill, only Lesbia tapped me on the arm rather peremptorily.

‘Come into the back drawing-room,’ she said, in a low voice.  ’I want to speak to you.—­Jill, why do you not practise your new duet with Sara?  She will play nothing but valses all the evening, unless you prevent it’