_She_ looks capable of anything, and something worse, in the
denouncing way; poor little beauty was her cat's-paw this morning."
"O Tom, how you talk! She is nobody's cat's-paw. I can tell you she does
her own thinking and acting too. If you'd just go and do something
hateful, or impose on somebody,--one of the waiters, for
instance,--you'd see her blaze up, fast enough."
"Ah! philanthropic?"
Clara looked puzzled. "I don't know; we have some girls here who are all
the time talking about benevolence, and charity, and the like, and they
have a little sewing-circle to make up things to be sold for the church
mission, or something,--I don't know just what; but Francesca won't go
near it."
"Democratic, then, maybe."
"No, she isn't, not a bit. She's a thorough little aristocrat: so
exclusive she has nothing to say to the most of us. I wonder she ever
took me for a friend, though I do love her dearly."
Tom looked down at his bright little sister, and thought the wonder was
not a very great one, but didn't say so; reserving his gallantries for
somebody else's sister.
"You seem greatly taken with her, Tom."
"I own the soft impeachment."
"Well, you'll have a fair chance, for she's coming home with me. I wrote
to mamma, and she says, bring her by all means,--and Mr. Ercildoune
gives his consent; so it is all settled."
"Mr. Ercildoune! is there no Mrs.
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