Her smile and her hair save her, so that she passes.
But it is a libel to compare her with what I was at her age. We must
look facts in the face, dear."
"People tell me every day that she is the living image of her mother,"
I answered humbly.
"People are idiots. They know you will believe it because you are a
man. They don't dare tell me anything of the sort. No, Fred, we must
build all our hopes of beauty on Winona."
"Ah!" I remarked, with an intonation of pride; "even her mother will
not be able to pick a flaw in _her_."
"She is a very handsome girl, but----"
Josephine stopped short, and I could see that her lip was trembling
with emotion.
"There is no 'but,'" I protested. "Whatever Josie may be, Winona is a
raving beauty."
"Oh, yes, Fred, I am perfectly satisfied with her looks. That makes it
all the harder. I'm on tenterhooks lest she is going to be queer."
"Queer?" I inquired, with agitation, dreading some disclosure of mental
derangement.
"Odd--not like other people. It would break my heart, Fred. She is
seventeen, and she doesn't take the slightest interest in coming out.
You remember I had her appear for an hour at Josie's party, and that
she was surrounded by young men from the moment she entered the room
until I sent her to bed? Most girls would have been in danger of
having their heads turned.
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