"
The tears had rushed into Rose's eyes, but she drove them back. "I daresay
Paderewski will play again before I go," she said. "And it was kind of
Madame Verney to ask you."
"Oh, as to kindness, she would have found it dull enough to go by herself,
and she knows nobody in London yet. But what do you mean about Paderewski
playing again, Rosie? You'll go and hear him this afternoon, won't you? I
never thought of your staying at home."
"I promised Aunt Lucy I would not go to a concert by myself," Rose
answered hastily. "I couldn't go, Pauline."
"But she meant in the evening, Rosie. She couldn't mind your going this
afternoon. Don't be a silly child. You'll spoil my pleasure if you stay at
home. Of course you must go."
"Oh, I couldn't," returned Rose. "I promised Aunt Lucy. Besides"--
"You little country mouse!" laughed Pauline. "I believe you are afraid to
go. Who do you think would eat you? Never mind, there is 'The Golden
Legend' at the Albert Hall on Thursday. We'll go to that. But I must be
quick; I promised to be there early. Rosie, be my good angel, and clean my
shoes for me. You'll find the stuff in that box. I can't trust Mrs.
Richards with my kid shoes. No, not that box, darling, the one below it."
Rose, who was delicately fastidious about all her own belongings, could
never understand how Pauline allowed her room to be so untidy, and as she
opened the box and took out the pot of polish she blushed to find herself
thinking of Aunt Dinah and her kitchen drawers in _Uncle Tom's Cabin_.
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