“I don’t mean in respect of keeping it,” said Bella, “because anyone should tear me to bits before getting at a syllable of it⁠—though there’s no merit in that, for I am naturally as obstinate as a pig. What I mean is, Lizzie, that I am a mere impertinent piece of conceit, and you shame me.”

Lizzie put up the pretty brown hair that came tumbling down, owing to the energy with which Bella shook her head; and she remonstrated while thus engaged, “My dear!”

“Oh, it’s all very well to call me your dear,” said Bella, with a pettish whimper, “and I am glad to be called so, though I have slight enough claim to be. But I am such a nasty little thing!”

“My dear!” urged Lizzie again.

“Such a shallow, cold, worldly, limited little brute!” said Bella, bringing out her last adjective with culminating force.