“Yes,” she continued, with increased animation, “I believe I should like it, of all things. The idea grows on me. I am thrown away here. What is the use of a pretty face if it is never seen? Did she say _thirty-five_ pounds for outfit? I can make that go a long way. I don’t take yards of stuff, like you two giantesses. My tailor-made and my spring dress are new. I’ll just run up and talk it over with the mater.” And she pushed back her chair, and bustled out of the room. Jessie and Honor remained gazing at one another across the table, in dead suggestive silence, which was at last broken by Jessie, who said in a tone of quiet despair-- “I wish that ridiculous letter had never come. At first I thought it a capital thing. I thought you ought to accept.” “I!” cried Honor; “and, pray, why should you select _me_?” “For half a dozen excellent reasons; you are pretty, young, bright, and popular. You have a knack of making friends. All the people about here and in the village would rather have _your_ little finger than the rest of us put together. You walk straight into their hearts, my love, and therefore you are the most suitable member of this family to be despatched to India to ingratiate yourself with our rich relations.” “Your fine compliments are wasted, Jess--your ‘butter’ thrown away--for I am not going to India.” “No; and Fairy has ere this selected her steamer and travelling costume; if she has made up her mind to go, nothing will stop her--and Uncle Pelham and Aunt Sally have never been told that Fairy is--is--so small. What _will_ they say?” regarding her sister with awestruck eyes and a heightened colour. What, indeed, would Mrs. Brande--who was already boasting of her niece from England, and loudly trumpeting the fame of the lovely girl she expected--say to Fairy? What would be her feelings when she was called upon to welcome a remarkably pretty little _dwarf_? “It must be prevented,” murmured Honor. “She cannot be allowed to go.” “Is Fairy ever prevented from doing what she wishes?” asked Jessie, with a solemn face. To this pertinent question her sister could find no adequate reply. After a pause she rose and said-- “Let us go upstairs, and hear what she is saying to mother.” Mrs. Gordon was sitting up in bed with a flushed face and anxious expression, listening to the brilliant description of Fairy’s future career in India. Fairy, with both elbows on the bed, and her pointed chin in her hands, was rapidly enumerating her new dresses, and wondering how soon they would be ready, declaring how fortunate it was that she had a quantity of patterns in the house, and that if her mother would only advance twenty pounds she could do wonders. She talked so incessantly, and so volubly, that no one had a chance of advising, objecting, or putting in one single word. Her mother and sisters listened in enforced, uneasy silence, to the torrent of this little creature’s almost impassioned eloquence.