ficult to lose herself, for she found them of
absorbing interest.

Among the Pritchards, Elsie's grandmother was the most striking
personage. The strength and sagacity of her handsome face, which the
expression of pride could not conceal, related her to Miss Pritchard
unmistakably. Pride, mingled with frailty and general lack of other
expression, characterized the invalid daughter; and pride that was
arrogance, the bored face of Augusta Pritchard, who was supposed to be
her mother.

It was late when the girl finally closed the album.

"Many thanks, Cousin Julia," she murmured rather absently, a far-away
look in her dark eyes.

After a little she rose and began to wander about the room.

"Cousin Julia," she said presently, "I can't help wondering--honestly,
don't you ever wish I looked more--I mean that I looked any like them?
They're mighty aristocratic-looking guys after all."

"My dear, when you talk like that you know as well as I that you're
fishing," insisted Miss Pritchard. "I have told you that I'm too
well-satisfied. I have to watch out for flaws."

"Well, don't you ever think, anyhow, that such _whopping_ dimples
are--almost vulgar?"

"I adore them," responded Miss Pritchard calmly. "But anyhow, you
know, they are supposed to be Pritchard. Didn't you tell that
what's-his-name boy you got them from your mother?"

Elsie colored.

"I loathed that gump," she said.

Miss Pritchard did not press the matter, though she wished very much
Elsie had explained or made other amends.

CHAPTER XX

"Oh, Cousin Julia, how perfectly gorgeous!" cried Elsie, "but oh, I
don't need it, and--oh, please take it back. You just shower things on
me, and I feel so wicked to have you spend so much on me."

"Elsie, child, don't you understand yet how happy I am to have you to
spend it on?" returned Miss Pritchard.

It was quite true that the latter was constantly bestowing not only
small, but rich and costly gifts upon the girl who had come to live
with her and for whom she had come to live. In this instance it was an
opera-cloak of rose-colored broadcloth, wadded, and lined with white
brocaded satin, soft and light and warm. The two went often to the
theatre, and it would be useful, though Miss Pritchard herself had
never owned such a garment, and it was certainly rather elegant for a
girl of sixteen.

"Now, Elsie," Miss Pritchard went on, "I want to ask you something--I
have more money than I know what