"You are forever with that odious girl," said Carrie. "Gwin Harley an odious girl! What in the world do you mean?" "What I say. Oh, of course I have seen her, and I know she's pretty, or some people would think her so; in my opinion she's vastly too stuck up; and so Sam Raynes says. Sam saw her last Sunday in church, and he said she wasn't a bit his style." "Oh, pray, don't quote Sam Raynes to me," said Elma. "Well, Carrie, of course I had tea with Gwin, and of course she's about the nicest girl in the world; and Kitty Malone was there, that scamp of an Irish girl. Oh, she's not so bad when you get to know her better. And Alice Denvers was there, and Bessie Challoner. We had quite a nice time. Of course I told you about that society that I have joined. Well, there are about ten girls members now, quite the elite of the school. I believe we shall do a vast lot of good." "What does it matter to me," said Carrie, stamping her foot. "I have lost my pleasant afternoon with Sam. He and his sister promised to meet me. I was to go with them to the Crystal Palace. Oh, it's too provoking." Carrie still fumed up and down the room. "And I have such a dull time," she continued; "those children are quite past bearing. They wear the very life out of me. See what that little imp of a Claude did to my dress this afternoon." As Carrie spoke she held up a decidedly shabby dress, which bore a huge rent at one side. "He caught it in his nasty little boot," said the girl. "He was scrambling up on my knee, and made such a fuss, and there happened to be a tiny hole, and then he wriggled and wriggled, and made it worse and worse. The skirt is not fit to wear. I don't know what I shall do. I really have not a blessed farthing to buy myself another new thing." Elma made a careful calculation. "How much was that stuff a yard?" she asked suddenly. "What does it matter, Elma? It's worn out now, and there's an end of it. You cannot buy me another gown; so where's the good of talking." "But perhaps I can," said Elma dubiously. "My dear Elma what do you mean?" "Well, I am not quite certain, of course," said Elma; "and it would have to be very cheap--very cheap indeed. But what color would you like, Carrie?" "Oh, blue," said Carrie, "rather light in shade. I love blue; and Sam says I look sweet in it." "If you begin to quote Sam again I don't think I'll give you sixpence for anything. You know perfectly well that I loathe and detest him." "Oh, that's your way," said Carrie. "You think it is very fine to detest all the young men in our set; but I tell you Sam is a right good fellow, and he has his ideas as much as anybody. He is going to get a raise, too, at Christmas, and--" "Are you engaged to him, Carrie?" asked Elma suddenly. "Not yet. Oh, we don't think of any such thing; but I like to go with him. He is great fun, and so is Florrie. Florrie doesn't mind a bit how often she acts gooseberry."