“Young lady! Well, I should say that I was,” flashed the girl in a slightly aggrieved tone. “Why, I’m eighteen, and Justine,—you remember Justine Guertin,—she is nineteen.” By this time Justine had joined them, and after greeting Nathalie with condescending graciousness, the three girls were soon chatting about their school-days and former friends. The girls were both very curious as to their old schoolmate’s life in her new home. Nathalie determined to hold her own and not be cowed by their ultra-fashionableness, and, despite the jarring realization of the fact that they knew of her changed circumstances since her father’s death, bravely told about her new life in their little home on Main Street, in the old-fashioned Long Island town. She not only dwelt with persistent minuteness on the many details of her more humble life, but told of her connection with the Girl Pioneers, the pleasure it had brought her, the fineness of its aims and purposes, and the wholesomeness of a life lived in the open, with its knowledge of bird and tree lore, and the many new avenues of knowledge it opened to a girl. This sort of thing, however, did not seem to appeal to these New York girls, and they stared somewhat coldly, although a bit curiously, at Nathalie during her recital, and then abruptly changed the subject by telling of their own gay life in the city. Oh, and what a time they were having at the Sunset Hill House, playing golf and tennis, and dancing in the evening with gay college boys and other young men. By this time Mona had returned, and, as Nathalie saw her trying to wheel a small tea-table into the room with both hands full, she hastily flew to her aid. And later, when she returned for some needed articles in the kitchen, the young girl arranged the teacups and saucers on the tray before the girls, as they had asked that they might be served with a cup of tea à la Russe. The girls continued to chatter in a desultory fashion for awhile, although Nathalie, whose intuitions were keen, sensed that they had grown a little less cordial in their manner towards her. Presently, finishing their tea and paying for it, they nodded Nathalie a careless good-by and hurried out, somewhat to the girl’s surprise, who had naturally supposed that they would invite her to come and see them at the hotel, or express a desire to visit her at her home. With reddened cheeks and a disappointed expression in her eyes Nathalie watched them as they crossed the road to the flagged walk opposite. It was true, she was lonely up there in her new surroundings, with no special friend to run in and chat with, as she had been accustomed to do with her friend Helen. She wanted young company, and the meeting with her former schoolmates had revived old memories and worn-out longings.