She had fairly
fallen in love with this new cousin of hers; her beauty, and
gracious ways, her foreign accent, and now her experiences of
nuns and convents had come like a revelation to the little
English girl in her downright, everyday life. With a comical
incongruity, she could compare her in her own mind to nothing
but an enchanted princess in some fairy tale; and she stood
gazing first at her and then at the glass, where soft wavy
brown hair and red and white daisies were reflected.
"What are you thinking of?" said Madelon, looking up suddenly.
"I--I don't know," replied Madge, quite taken aback, colouring
and stammering; and then, as if she could not help it--"Oh!
Cousin Madelon, you are so pretty."
"It is very pretty of you to say so," said Madelon, laughing
and blushing too a little; then holding out both hands she
drew Madge towards her, and kissed her on her two cheeks. "I
think you and I will be great friends; will we not?" she said.
"Yes," says unresponsive Madge shortly, looking down and
twisting her fingers in her awkward English fashion.
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