Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Juvenile fiction; Spaniards -- England -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh, don't," said Flossie, flushing, it is true, but at the same time
flashing her eyes with a delighted glance from Nesta to Penelope.
"We'll be very rich in the future," she said, in a modest tone, and then
she dropped her eyes.
There was a dead pause for a minute or two.
"Father has been having some luck lately," said Mrs Griffiths, "and so
perhaps he'll ride over the heads even of the grand Aldworths, and even
of you Carters, although you do own a fine place like Court Prospect."
"We are very glad," said Nesta.
"I thought, perhaps," said Flossie, "it would be best to say that seeing
the change in my circumstances, I wish to have nothing more to do with
you, Nesta Aldworth."
"It seems unkind," said Mrs Griffiths. "I didn't much like coming up
here to say it, but Flossie was determined."
"It was father and I who settled it last night," said Flossie. "I spoke
to him about it, and he said that such a very deceitful girl could have
nothing to do with me in the future; so this is good-bye. I wish you
well, of course. I would not wish my worst enemy anything but well, but
whatever happens in the future I cannot know you."
"Very well; of course I am sorry. I know I behaved like a perfect
horror," said Nesta.
"You say that!" cried Flossie. There was a queer look in her black
eyes. She fully expected that Nesta would make a scene and get, in
short, into one of her celebrated tantrums; but Nesta's eyes kept on
being sorry, and Penelope said:
"Oh, don't let's talk about disagreeables. If we are all happy in our
own way, why should we nag and jar at one another? Do come into the
house, Mrs Griffiths, and have some tea, and if father is anywhere
round I'll ask him to have a chat with you. I am sure he will be
delighted to hear that Mr Griffiths had made a lot of money."
"Not so much made, my dear," said Mrs Griffiths, going on in front with
Penelope, "but in the making. That's it--it's in the making. We are
likely to be richer and richer. Father is so excited you can scarcely
hold him in bounds. But there, my dear, there. I am sorry Flossie is
so rude, but the child's head is turned by her fine prospects."
When they got near the house Nesta turned and looked at Flossie.
"So you are never going to speak to me again, even though--"
"Well?" said Flossie.
"Even though we were such friends always."
"You never really loved me; I don't believe it a bit," was Flossie's
response. "Did you, now?"
"I think I did," said Nesta; "in a horribly selfish way perhaps."
"Well, you were fairly generous, that I will say," continued Flossie,
"with regard to your yellow-boy. Anyhow, I'll try to think kindly of
you. Take a kiss and we'll say no more about it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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