“Hush! Trix has the floor.”

“If they spent their wages properly, I shouldn’t mind so much, but they think they must be as fine as anybody, and dress so well that it is hard to tell mistress from maid. Why, our cook got a bonnet just like mine (the materials were cheaper, but the effect was the same), and had the impertinence to wear it before my face. I forbid it, and she left, of course, which made papa so cross he wouldn’t give me the camel’s hair shawl he promised this year.”

“It’s perfectly shameful!” said Miss Perkins, as Trix paused out of breath. “Servants ought to be made to dress like servants, as they do abroad; then we should have no more trouble,” observed Miss Perkins, who had just made the grand tour, and had brought home a French maid.

“Perky don’t practise as she preaches,” whispered Belle to Polly, as Miss P. became absorbed in the chat of her other neighbours. “She pays her chamber-girl with old finery; and the other day, when Betsey was out parading in her missis’s cast-off purple plush suit, Mr. Curtis thought she was mademoiselle, and bowed to her. He is as blind as a bat, but recognized the dress, and pulled of his hat to it in the most elegant style. Perky adores him, and was angry enough to beat Betsey when she told the story and giggled over it. Betsey is quite as stylish and ever so much prettier than Perky, and she knows it, which is an aggravation.”

Polly couldn’t help laughing, but grew sober a minute after, as Trix said, pettishly,—

“Well, I’m sick of hearing about beggars; I believe half of them are humbugs, and if we let them alone they’d go to work and take care of themselves. There’s altogether too much fuss made about charity. I do wish we could be left in peace.”

“There can’t be too much charity!” burst out Polly, forgetting her shyness all at once.

“Oh, indeed! Well, I take the liberty to differ from you,” returned Trix, putting up her glass, and bestowing upon Polly her most “toploftical stare”, as the girls called it.

I regret to say that Polly never could talk with or be near Trix without feeling irritated and combative. She tried to conquer this feeling, but she couldn’t, and when Trix put on air, Polly felt an intense desire to box her ears. That eye-glass was her especial aversion, for Trix was no more near-sighted than herself, but pretended to be because it was the fashion, and at times used the innocent glass as a weapon with which to put down anyone who presumed to set themselves up. The supercilious glance which accompanied her ironically polite speech roused Polly, who answered with sudden colour and the kindling of the eyes that always betrayed a perturbed spirit.

“I don’t think many of us would enjoy that selfish sort of peace while little children starve, and girls no older than us kill themselves because their dreadful poverty leaves them no choice but sin or death.”

A sudden lull took place, for though Polly did not raise her voice, it was full of indignant emotion, and the most frivolous girl there felt a little thrill of sympathy; for the most utterly fashionable life does not kill the heart out of women, till years of selfish pleasure have passed over their heads. Trix was ashamed of herself; but she felt the same antagonism towards Polly that Polly did towards her; and being less generous, took satisfaction in plaguing her. Polly did not know that the secret of this was the fact that Tom often held her up as a model for his fiancée to follow, which caused that young lady to dislike her more than ever.

“Half the awful stories in the papers are made up for a sensation, and it’s absurd to believe them, unless one likes to be harrowed up. I don’t; and as for peace, I’m not likely to get much while I have Tom to look after,” said Trix, with an aggravting laugh.