doing when lords of creation show any signs of subjection.
“Where did you learn all this sort of thing?” he asked, with a quizzical look.
“As ‘this sort of thing’ is rather a vague expression, would you kindly explain?” returned Amy, knowing perfectly well what he meant, but wickedly leaving him to describe what is indescribable.
“Well—the general air, the style, the self-possession, the—the—illusion—you know,” laughed Laurie, breaking down, and helping himself out of his quandary with the new word.
Amy was gratified, but, of course, didn’t show it, and demurely answered, “Foreign life polishes one in spite of one’s self; I study as well as play; and as for this”—with a little gesture toward her dress—“why, tulle is cheap, posies to be had for nothing, and I am used to making the most of my poor little things.”