, make
yourself smart, put on your best toggery, forget your headache, and
come downstairs with me. We are going to have some fun on our own
account, now, sweet."

"O Flora, what are you going to do?"

"First of all, we'll have some lunch, and afterward we'll stroll
through some woods at the back of the house, and I'll tell you some of
my adventures in London last season. Oh, my dear, I did have a time of
it! Four entertainments often in one evening! That's what you'll be
going through, Ermie, in a year or two."

"Is it?" said Ermengarde. Her eyes did not sparkle any more. Somehow
Flora did not seem as fascinating to her as she had done an hour ago.
Lilias's disappointed face would come back again and again to her
memory. She rose, however, and under Flora's supervision put on the
smartest of her morning frocks, and went downstairs to lunch.

When the meal had come to an end, and the servants had withdrawn,
Ermie asked Flora another question.

"Are we _only_ going to walk in the woods?" she said. "Is that _all_
you asked me to stay at home for!"

"_All_, you silly puss? Well, no, it isn't quite all. We are going to
have tea with some friends of mine. We are to meet them in the
woods--very nice people--you'll be charmed with them. We're all going
to have a gypsy tea together in the woods."

"But, Flora, I thought you hated picnics?"

"Oh, what a little innocent goose! I hate some kinds. Not the kind I'm
going to take you to. Now run upstairs, and put on your hat. It is
time for us to be strolling out."

"But, Flora----"

"No more of your 'buts'--go and get ready. Ah, my sweet child, frowns
don't become that charming little face of yours. Now, off with you;
put on your most becoming hat, and let us set forth."

Ermengarde walked upstairs as if her feet were weighted with lead. The
uneasy feeling, which had begun to arise in her heart when Flora
proposed that she should tell a lie in order to remain at home,
deepened and deepened. Ermengarde had lots of faults, but she was a
little lady by birth and breeding, and it suddenly occurred to her
that Flora's flatteries were fulsome, and that Flora herself was not
in what her father would call good style. She was not at all brave
enough, however, now, to withstand her companion. She put on her white
shady hat, drew gauntlet gloves over her hands, caught up her parasol,
and ran downstairs.

Flora was waiting for her. Flora's eyes were bright, and her cheeks
flush