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Aneta and all the girls of her set, also Kathleen O'Donnell, Rosamond Dacre, Matty and Clara Roache, Janet Barns, the Tristrams, the Cardews, all clustered round the box. "Oh, what fun!" said Kathleen. "A box of dresses for you! You lucky Queen Maggie! How I wish some one would send me some clothes!" "Take them out, dear, and let us look at them," said Mrs. Ward.
"Oh, she is excellent fun when you know her," said Maggie; "but as she won't be on your side, nor in your form, you are not likely to have much to do with her. Then Matty and Clara are first-rate, and they're mine too; and Kathleen O'Donnell is a perfect brick; and Janet Burns, she's as strong as they make 'em. Of course the Tristrams will belong to me.
He might have been anything, save that just now the tan on his face witnessed to an out-of-door life. His manner was cold, his method of speech leisurely and methodical. At first sight Harry saw nothing in him to modify the belief in which he had grown up that the Edges were an unattractive race, unable to appreciate Tristrams, much less worthy to mate with them.
Then that delightful, wonderful scheme of having an East End girl for your very own to train, and help, and write to, and support; and the companionship, and all the magical things which the Tristrams had more or less enjoyed in foreign schools, but which seemed to have reached a delicacy of perfection at Aylmer House!
Happen what might, be the end of it what it might, this situation was deliciously strong of the Tristrams. They were redeeming their characters; they had not settled down into the ordinary or been gulfed in the slough of the commonplace. Unexpected appearances and midnight interviews of sentimental moment were still to be hoped for from them. There was not yet an end of all.
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