so proud. From the way you talk you might be the Queen of England."
The girl shook her head. "And it isn't quite fair that they should have to put up with me."
Those unfortunate words were made to recoil upon her heavily. Both her assailants were frankly amazed that she should want to look at the matter from the enemy point of view. To such a mind as Mrs. Wren's it could only mean that Bridport House had hypnotized her with the semblance of place and power.
"I could shake you," re-affirmed the good lady. "A girl as first-rate as you are has no right to be a snob."
Somehow that barb was horrible. Nothing wounds like the truth.
Strong in the conviction that "she had got her" Mrs. Wren proceeded. "You set as high a value on these people as they set on themselves. It's noodles like you who keep them up. What use are they anyway, except to play the fool with honest folk?"
"Yes, that's right," said Milly with flashing eyes, as she took up the parable. "Wrexham's one of the same push. His lot simply won't look at me, yet I consider myself the equal of anyone. And I should make a very good countess."
Mary could only gasp. She was rather overcome by this naïveté.
"So you would, my dear," said Mrs. Wren. "And one of these days you will be a countess—if you don't throw yourself away on Tom, Dick, and Harry in the meantime."
Mary was hard set not to break out in a hysterical laugh. She was in the depths if ever soul was, yet the
