Miss
MacFarlane was tall and Corinne was short; Miss MacFarlane was
dark, and he adored dark, handsome people--and Corinne was light;
Miss MacFarlane's voice was low and soft, her movements slow and
graceful, her speech gentle--as if she were afraid she might hurt
someone inadvertently; her hair and dress were simple to severity.
While Corinne--well, in every one of these details Corinne
represented the exact opposite. It was the blood! Yes, that was
it--it was her blood! Who was she, and where did she come from?
Would Corinne like her? What impression would this high bred
Southern beauty make upon the pert Miss Wren, whose little nose
had gone down a point or two when her mother had discovered, much
to her joy, the week before, that it was the REAL Miss Grayson and
not an imitation Miss Grayson who had been good enough to invite
her daughter and any of her daughter's friends to tea; and it had
fallen another point when she learned that Miss Felicia had left
her card the next day, expressing to the potato-bug how sorry she
was to hear that the ladies were out, but that she hoped it would
only be a matter of a few days before "she would welcome them" to
her own apartments, or words to that effect, Frederick's memory
being slightly defective.
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