has died without a penny. That spoiled, pampered, fanciful child is left a pauper on my hands.”
Miss Amelia sat down quite heavily in the nearest chair.
“Hundreds of pounds have I spent on nonsense for her. And I shall never see a penny of it. Put a stop to this ridiculous party of hers. Go and make her change her frock at once.”
“I?” panted Miss Amelia. “M-must I go and tell her now?”
“This moment!” was the fierce answer. “Don’t sit staring like a goose. Go!”
Poor Miss Amelia was accustomed
dance in which she had been skimming and flying about the room, like a large rose-colored butterfly, and the enjoyment and exercise had brought a brilliant, happy glow into her face.
When she entered the room, she floated in with a few of the butterfly steps—and there sat Becky, nodding her cap sideways