"Why, Zula, did you tell her that?"
"Yes, I did."
"Well, it was not lady-like. Now if you are to be my cousin, you must let me talk to you like a cousin. It seems to me that was saucy."
"Now you are scolding me, too. It seems to me that people like to scold me."
"Oh, no, Zula, I am not scolding you, and you must not blame the lady for her thoughts, for, really, you do look like a gypsy."
Zula drew herself up proudly.
"Well," she said. "I can't help it, and I don't care to be told of it."
"It's no disgrace. I have seen many a pretty gypsy girl. There was one who belonged to a tribe that camped just a little way out of the village, last summer, and she certainly was a beauty, only she was so dark."
"Well, I don't want people to think I am one."
"What are you doing, drawing?" Guy asked, as he discovered her pencil and book.
She covered the paper with her hand.
"Let me see it," he said entreatingly.
"Will you promise that you will not laugh, and that you will never speak of it?"
"I promise."
He took the book and looking at it closely, a smile passed over his face.
"Now you are laughing at me and you said you would not."
"Was I laughing? I really did not mean to."
"Perhaps you didn't, but you felt laugh, just as I do when I feel angry. But tell me what do you think of it."
"No, I would rather not."
"You must."
She said this with such vehemence that he started.
"Well, in that case I will."
"Tell me, then, would you try again?"
"No, I do not believe I would, for I can see nothing to build on."
Zula's castle fell. She looked down into the clear water, and the shining pebbles lay loose and dull upon the bottom of the lake. She turned quickly toward Guy, and catching the book from his hand, while tears of mortification and injured pride stood in her eyes, she said:
"I will never tell any one anything again, never."
"I would not cry, Zula."
"Did you never cry for disappointment?"
"No."
"Then it was because you never had one. I do not believe any one ever told you that your work was worthless."
"I suppose they had no reason to."
Zula's beautiful red lips curled scornfully. She could not but notice the self-esteem with which he uttered the words. But Guy could not see it. He thought they were true and he had received so much flattery that he doubted not a moment that Zula would consider his decision correct, which in fact she did accept.
Zula crushed the book tightly in her hand concealing it in her pocket, just as she looked up to see Carrie, who was coming in search of the missing pair. "Mama says come right home to tea; it is all ready."
Carrie threw her arm around Zula's waist, and as she did so her hand came in contact with the heavy braids of shining hair, which hung over Zula's shoulders.
"What lovely hair you have," Carrie said. "I never saw but one like it, and it was on the head of a handsome gypsy girl, who was here last summer."
Zula's eyes flashed and she closed her mouth tightly, with an inward determination to have at least half her luxuriant hair cut off. Would she never cease to be reminded that she was a gypsy?
"Why, how angry you look," said Carrie. "Don't you like to have any one praise your hair?"
"No," Zula answered, forcing a smile.
"Oh, you are a funny girl," Carrie said, twining her arms around Zula's waist in such a loving way that Zula began to cry.
"Please do not cry; I did not mean to hurt your feelings; I think your hair is so lovely that I could not help telling you so. Mama always says flattery is very silly, but really I did not mean it for that; I do think your hair is just splendid, but I will not let you know it any more."
"Thank you," said Zula, clasping Carrie's little, soft white hand. "It is not you who is foolish, it is myself and I will try and behave a little better. I wish I were like you, Carrie, but I can't be no matter how hard I try."
"Oh, don't wish to be like me. Sue Haines says I haven't enough spunk ever to amount to anything in the world; but mama says it does not take spunk to amount to a good woman, and that, she says, is worth everything."
"I think so, too," said Zula, drying her eyes.
"We are all going to the island to-morrow," said Guy. "There is to be an excursion, and I suppose we shall have any amount of fun."
"Oh, won't that be grand!" said Zula. "I do so love to be on the water."
"Oh, I am always more than half afraid; but of course there is not the least bit of danger."
"Not the least," said Guy. "Please, Carrie, do not scare Zula so that she will not wish to go."
"Oh, I am never afraid of the water; I love it."
"I don't believe you are afraid of anything. Why I would not dare to shoot off a pistol the way you do. I am almost afraid to look at one."
Zula remarked, just as they were entering the house, that she wished there was nothing more for her to fear than pistols.