Frances Hodgson Burnett

“ The idea of the Norrises meeting Mr. Clavering's protégé had been bad enough; but how could they introduce a traveling artist, even if he was a presentable one, to Captain Malmaison?
"That is easily settled," said Lettie, with no inconsiderable spirit, when Flo had finished her hospitable speech. "The gentleman has enough good taste and discrimination to discover how welcome he is. He told me this morning that he expected to shorten his stay to a few days."
"I hope he will," put in Blanche, complacently. "The Norrises will be here on Friday." ”

“ Neither Flo nor Blanche cared to face the sharp little battery of satire which she was so well able to turn upon them. If the beauty had been given to her sisters, the brains had certainly been bestowed upon Lettie, and she made good use of them in a diplomatic style which was, now and then, very refreshing to observing people. ”

“ Dallas, fretfully, settling herself in her invalid's chair. "We can't offend Mr. Clavering."
"But a traveling artist!" said Flo, scornfully.
Flo was the beauty of the family, and could afford to be scornful.
"I'll take care he don't distress the Norrises," put in Lettie, with the demure sharpness which was peculiar to her, and which was not a little dreaded by her elder sister. "And I don't think you need be alarmed. He might possibly be a passably well-conducted individual if he is a traveling artist, you know. One hears of such things occasionally." ”

“ What could a traveling Dick Tinto know of the Norrises?
"Mr. Norris's country-seat in "Virginia is called Clitheroe, I believe," she answered.
"Ah!" said Mr. Malverson, coolly, "I believe I know them. Met them at Baden last year. The youngest was quite a belle; they used to call her Lalla Rookh, for the sake of her dark eyes."
Flo looked slightly puzzled, and condescended a well-bred survey of the handsome face and fine figure of her incubus. Who could he be? Not a common artist, at least. ”

“ I should have said I was fortunate."
"Frank was right," he said to himself, as he passed up the hall. "Little Miss Lettie is the dash of lemon in the Dallas negus."
She came into the parlor when her cake was baked, and mended his coat, as she had promised. It did not take her very long to do it; but if the truth was told, I think Mr. Malverson would not have been sorry if it had—the long, curling lashes drooped so darkly on the velvety cheeks, and the small brown fingers were so nimble. ”

“ Now, it is not a natural thing to suppose that she would say she didn't forgive him, so she looked up from under her black eyelashes, and laughed and said, "Yes!" And Captain Pierre Malmaison led her in to dinner, quite forgetting to release the little finger-tips until the last moment at the dining-room door. ”

“ Lettie colored.
"I think you ought," she said, laughing in spite of herself. "But I think it possible you are excusable."
"Frank sent me," he explained, taking the tips of the pretty fingers he had drawn through his arm, and looking down into her brilliant face. "He told me to come and 'see Lettie.' I came to see Lettie, and behold the result! A friend of Mr. Clavering's had sent word to him that a young artist was coming to Amberside, and would be glad of his patronage, etc. ”