Cousin James says the Purple Pills are the best, but I know better.
Valancy smarted anew with the sting of that old recollection.
But she did not do her hair pompadour.
Valancy didn't know whether she cared much for bugs either.
Uncle Wellington, whom she disliked and despised even though he had fulfilled the highest Stirling aspiration, "marrying money," would say to her in a pig's whisper, "Not thinking of getting married yet, my dear?
They hardly ever got any letters.
But then Valancy had never been "queer" before.
On the steep mountain trails around her Blue Castle only gaily caparisoned steeds might proudly pace; in real life Valancy would have been quite contented to drive in a buggy behind a nice horse.
Then one of the older girls had an inspiration.
She had never referred to it since, but Mrs.
Idleness was a cardinal sin in the Stirling household.
But certainly Foster seems to know all there is to know about them.
Valancy never said what she thought.
She thought it became her--only the little knot was so absurdly small.
But Betty had never asked her, after all.
Trent never beat about the bush.
When she was young they allowed her to wear white, but that had been tacitly dropped for some years.