Mrs. Carroll did her best, but Debby was too
simple for a belle, too honest for a flirt, too
independent for a fine lady; she would be nothing
but her sturdy little self, open as daylight, gay as
a lark, and blunt as any Puritan. Poor Aunt
Pen was in despair, till she observed that the girl
often "took" with the very peculiarities which
she was lamenting; this somewhat consoled her,
and she tried to make the best of the pretty bit
of homespun which would not and could not become
velvet or brocade. Seguin, Ellenborough,
& Co. looked with lordly scorn upon her, as a
worm blind to their attractions. Miss MacRimsy
and her "set" quizzed her unmercifully behind
her back, after being worsted in several passages
of arms; and more than one successful mamma
condoled with Aunt Pen upon the terribly defective
education of her charge, till that stout matron
could have found it in her heart to tweak off their
caps and walk on them, like the irascible Betsey
Trotwood.
But Debby had a circle of admirers who loved
her with a sincerity few summer queens could
boast; for they were real friends, won by gentle
arts, and retained by the gracious sweetness of her
nature.
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