"What are you going to wear to-night?" said Mrs. Friend, softly smoothing
back the brown hair from the girl's hot brow.
"Pale green and apple-blossom."
Lucy Friend smiled, as though already she had a vision of the
full-dress result.
"That'll be delicious," she said, with enthusiasm.
"Lucy!--am I good-looking?"
The girl spoke half wistfully, half defiantly, her eyes fixed on Lucy.
Mrs. Friend laughed.
"I asked that question before I had seen you."
"Of whom?" said Helena eagerly. "You didn't see anybody but Cousin Philip
before I arrived. Tell me, Lucy--tell me at once."
Mrs. Friend kept a smiling silence for a minute. At last she said--"Lord
Buntingford showed me a portrait of you before you arrived."
"A portrait of me? There isn't one in the house! Lucy, you deceiver, what
do you mean?"
"I was taken to see one in the hall."
A sudden light dawned on Helena.
"The Romney? No! And I've been showing it to everybody as the loveliest
thing going!"
"There--you see!"
Helena's face composed itself.
"I don't know why I should be flattered.
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