She is very ambitious and hardworking--"
"Then," interrupted the Man of Wrath," she is not pretty.
"Only ugly girls work hard."
"--and she is really very clever--"
"I do not like clever girls, they are so stupid,"
again interrupted the Man of Wrath.
"--and unless some kind creature like yourself takes pity
on her she will be very lonely."
"Then let her be lonely."
"Her mother is my oldest friend, and would be greatly distressed to think
that her daughter should be alone in a foreign town at such a season."
"I do not mind the distress of the mother."
"Oh, dear me," I exclaimed impatiently, "I shall have to ask
her to come!"
"If you should be inclined," the letter went on, "to play
the good Samaritan, dear Elizabeth, I am positive you would
find Minora a bright, intelligent companion--"
"Minora?" questioned the Man of Wrath.
The April baby, who has had a nursery governess of an altogether
alarmingly zealous type attached to her person for the last six weeks,
looked up from her bread and milk.
"It sounds like islands," she remarked pensively.
The governess coughed.
"Majora, Minora, Alderney, and Sark," explained her pupil.
I looked at her severely.
"If you are not careful, April," I said, "you'll be a genius
when you grow up and disgrace your parents.
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