Presently Mary was chatting away almost as cordially as if it were Elise's dusky curls she had in her fingers, or A.O.'s brown braids.
Under promise of secrecy she told of Elise's masquerade the night before, and of A.O.'s wild curiosity about the lady in black.

She had persecuted them all morning with questions, and they were almost worn out trying to evade them and to baffle her.

Ethelinda appreciated being taken into her confidence, for she had been more lonely than her pride would allow her to admit.

Her patronizing airs and ill-guarded speech about being exclusive in the choice of friends had offended most of the lower-class girls.

Slowly she was learning that her old standards would not bear comparison with Madam Chartley's and the Lady Evelyn's and that she must accept theirs if she would have any friends at Warwick Hall.
Her friendship with Mary took a long stride forward that afternoon.
The rest of the money came in various ways.