"Oh, Pauline, you know I want to come to you. It would be too lovely. But
it is so sudden. I can't believe Aunt Lucy would like to have Miss Sampson
with her."
"You had better speak to your aunt," returned Pauline in an icy voice. "I
wash my hands of the matter altogether. I did my best for you; but I see I
was mistaken in thinking that you really cared about our being together.
It does not matter I can give up the flat and go back to Mrs. Jephson's."
"Pauline, don't speak like that," begged Rose, with tears in her eyes.
"You know how I love being with you. If I could be certain Aunt Lucy would
not fret for me, I should be only too delighted to get away. I never feel
more than half-alive here. But Miss Sampson could not do for her what I
do."
"Don't you think you may exaggerate your usefulness to your aunt, dear?"
Pauline returned, with a sneer. But with an effort she controlled her
temper, and spoke the next words in a different tone. "Miss Merivale seems
really anxious for you to have a change, Rose. I think she understands
that you are bored and unhappy here."
"Oh, Pauline, you did not say that to her?" cried Rose, the blood rushing,
up into her face.
"Of course not, darling. It was your music I spoke most of. But she does
want you to come to me. Go up and speak to her; you will see that she
really wants it.
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