ness to talk with her, and try to make her feel comfortable. Brenda and Nora, now on their way to the dining-room, stopping in front of Frances, introduced Amy to her and the other girls in the group, and Nora was purposely rather ostentatious in her demonstrations of friendliness toward Amy, calling her by her first name, and addressing one or two questions to her in a tone that implied that she attached much importance to her replies.
“Why, here’s our young oarswoman! Why, I’m delighted to see you!” exclaimed Mr. Elston, who just at this moment approached the girls. “Have you been saving any more lives lately?”
At this speech, which they could not help hearing, Frances and her friends looked up in surprise. Mr. Edward Elston was a man whom even a supercilious girl like Frances had to admit to be worth knowing. Yet here he was, showing undisguised pleasure in meeting this unknown young girl, whom they had set down as not worth knowing, because they did not remember to have met her before.
Then the mystification of poor Frances was still further increased when Ben Creighton approached and spoke to Amy in terms that implied a more or less intimate acquaintance. For Ben was a person whom she met very often in Boston in the winter. In fact, his mother and the mother of Frances were cousins, and as he was called by the girls of her set an especially good dancer and tennis player, Frances would have been more than flattered, had
