"Ike spect it's easy enough."

"Mm."

"But you're all right, anyhow."

"Anyhow, it's no good bothering when you're plain."

"You're _not_ plain."

Miriam looked sharply round.

"Go on, Gooby."

"You're not. You don't know. Granny said you'll be a bonny woman, and
Sarah thinks you've got the best shape face and the best complexion of
any of us, and cook was simply crying her eyes out last night and said
you were the light of the house with your happy, pretty face, and mother
said you're much too attractive to go about alone, and that's partly why
Pater's going with you to Hanover, silly. . . . You're not plain," she
gasped.

Miriam's amazement silenced her. She stood back from the mirror. She
could not look into it until Harriett had gone. The phrases she had
just heard rang in her head without meaning. But she knew she would
remember all of them. She went on doing her hair with downcast eyes.
She had seen Harriett vividly, and had longed to crush her in her arms
and kiss her little round cheeks and the snub of her nose. Then she
wanted her to be gone.