What could she see in Prudy?
The child was not to be compared with these exquisite little creatures, who had maids to dress them, and foreign masters come to their houses and teach them French, music, and dancing.

Why, Prudy did not know French from Hebrew; she had only learned a few tunes on the piano, and could not sing "operatic" to save her life; her dancing was generally done on one foot.

What was the charm in Prudy?
Just one thing--_Naturalness_.

She was not made after a pattern.
"It was a great risk inviting them here, and that youngest one seems very delicate; but let what will happen, I make a note of this: I have seen four live children." Live children indeed! And here comes one of them now--the unaccountable Fly, darting into the room very unexpectedly, rubbing her eyes as she runs.
"Why, Topknot!" cried Horace, making a dash upon her; for her frock was unfastened, and slipping off at the shoulders, and her head looked like a last year's bird's nest.
"Scusa me," whispered the "live child," very much astonished to see such a crowd.
"But you ought not to come down here half undressed, you little midget!" "What if I wanted to ask you sumpin ?" stammered the child, more alarmed by her brother's sternness than by the fire of strange eyes.

"'Spec' I mus' have my froat _goggled_; have some more _poke-rime_ round it, Hollis!" added she, in a tone loud enough to be heard by half the party.
Think of mentioning "poke-rime" in fashionable society! "Tell her she must dance 'Little Zephyrs,' or you'll send her right back," suggested Prudy, who was famous for thinking of the right thing at the right time, and so making awkward affairs pass off well.
"Yes, Fly, come out in the floor, and dance 'Little Zephyrs' this minute, or you must go back to bed." Anything for the sake of staying down stairs.