“But once give her a chance,” he added, “and she would ride over everybody’s head, and snub working people worse than she thinks she is snubbed because her mother makes dresses.” This allusion to dressmaking reminded Reinette of what Anna had said with regard to Miss La Rue who had proposed buying her mother’s business, and she questioned Phil of her, but he knew nothing, and Reinette continued: “Oh, if it only were my Margery, I should be so happy. You don’t know how I love her; she is so sweet, and good, and beautiful. I’ve known her since we were little girls at school together. It was a private English school in Paris, where I was a boarder, and she a day scholar at half rate, because they were poor. I never saw Mrs. La Rue but once or twice, and she is not at all like Margery. She had been a hair-dresser at one time, I think. Oh, if this Miss La Rue should prove to be my friend! When will you see her? When are you going to the Vineyard?” Phil could not tell. He had intended going at once, but since coming to Hetherton Place he had changed his mind, for there was something in this willful, capricious sparkling girl which attracted him more than all the gaieties of the Sea View House, and he said it was uncertain when he should go to the Vineyard—probably not for two weeks or more. “Oh, I am so sorry,” Reinette said frankly, “for I do want to know about Margery; but then,” she added, with equal frankness, “it is real nice to have you here, where I can see you every day. We must be great friends, Phil, and you must like me in all my moods; like me when I want to tear your eyes out just the same as when I would tear mine out to serve you. Will you promise, Phil?” “Yes,” was his reply, as he took in his the hand she offered him, feeling strongly tempted to touch again the girlish lips which pouted so prettily as she looked up at him. One taste of those lips had intoxicated him as wine intoxicates the drunkard; but there was a womanly dignity now in Reinette’s manner which kept him at a distance, while she went on to tell him of her good intentions. She was going to cultivate the Fergusons, especially her grandmother, and she should commence by calling there that very afternoon, and Phil must go with her. She would order an early dinner, at half-past four, to which Phil should stay, and then they would take a gallop together into town. “You have nothing to do but to stay with me. Your business will not suffer?” she asked; and coloring at this allusion to his business, Phil replied that it would _not_ suffer very much from an absence of half a day or so, and that he was at her disposal.