“He had no right to,” said Clementina, but neither of them was displeased, and after it was over, Mrs. Lander said that any one would have thought the call was for her, instead of Clementina, from the way Miss Milray kept talking to her.  She formed a high opinion of her; and Miss Milray put Clementina in mind of Mr. Milray; she had the same hair of chiseled silver, and the same smile; she moved like him, and talked like him; but with a greater liveliness.  She asked fondly after him, and made Clementina tell her if he seemed quite well, and in good spirits; she was civilly interested in Mrs. Milray’s health.  At the embarrassment which showed itself in the girl, she laughed and said, “Don’t imagine I don’t know all about it, Miss Claxon!  My sister-in-law has owned up very handsomely; she isn’t half bad, as the English say, and I think she likes owning up if she can do it safely.”

“And you don’t think,” asked Mrs. Lander, “that Clementina done wrong to dance that way?”

Clementina blushed, and Miss Milray laughed again.  “If you’ll let Miss Claxon come to a little party I’m giving she may do her dance at my house; but she sha’n’t be obliged to do it, or anything she doesn’t like.  Don’t say she hasn’t a gown ready, or something of that kind!  You don’t know the resources of Florence, and how the dress makers here doat upon doing impossible things in no time at all, and being ready before they promise.  If you’ll put Miss Claxon in my hands, I’ll see that she’s dressed for my dance.  I live out on one of the hills over there, that you see from your windows”—­she nodded toward them—­“in a beautiful villa, too cold for winter, and too hot for summer, but I think Miss Claxon can endure its discomfort for a day, if you can spare her, and she will consent to leave you to the tender mercies of your maid, and—­” Miss Milray paused at the kind of unresponsive blank to which she found herself talking, and put up her lorgnette, to glance from Mrs. Lander to Clementina.  The girl said, with embarrassment, “I don’t think I ought to leave Mrs. Landa, just now.  She isn’t very well, and I shouldn’t like to leave her alone.”

“But we’re just as much obliged to you as if she could come,” Mrs. Lander interrupted; “and later on, maybe she can.  You see, we han’t got any maid, yit.  Well, we did have one at Woodlake, but she made us do so many things for her, that we thought we should like to do a few things for ouaselves, awhile.”

If Miss Milray perhaps did not conceive the situation, exactly, she said, Oh, they were quite right in that; but she might count upon Miss Claxon for her dance, might not she; and might not she do anything in her power for them?  She rose to go, but Mrs. Lander took her at her word, so far as to say, Why, yes, if she could tell Clementina the best place to get a dress she guessed the child would be glad enough to come to the dance.

“Tell her!” Miss Milray cried.  “I’ll take her!  Put on your hat, my dear,” she said to Clementina, “and come with me now.  My carriage is at your door.”