She took trouble with Barbara.
Sitting neatly upon a seat, Mary watched rude little boys throw sidelong glances in her direction.

Her long black legs were quivering with the perception of their interest, even though her eyes were haughtily indifferent.

It was then that Barbara, with Miss Letts, an absent-minded companion, came and sat by her side.

Barbara and Mary had met at a party--not quite on equal terms, because nine to seven is as sixty to thirty--but they had played hide-and-seek together, and had, by chance, hidden in the same cupboard.
The little boys had moved away, and Mary Adams's legs dropped, suddenly, their tension.
"I'm going to a party to-night," Mary said, with a studied indifference.
Miss Letts knew of Mary's parents, and that, socially, they were "all right"-- a little more "all right," were we to be honest, than Mr.and Mrs.Flint.She said, therefore: "Are you, dear?
That will be nice for you." Instantly Barbara was trembling with excitement.

She knew that the remark had been made to her and not at all to Miss Letts.