How fresh it was, and roomy! And what a delicious scent of
lavender came from the old linen press! "What are you doing, Wilmot? I
wish you would let me help you."
"No, thank you, my dearie. I've got what I wanted. It's this tablecloth
Miss Sampson is going to darn for me. She's the cleverest young lady with
her needle I ever came across, and that anxious to be useful."
"Then you like her?" asked Rose. She could not help a certain stiffness
getting into her voice when she mentioned Rhoda, though she was ready to
laugh at herself for being jealous of her aunt's companion.
"Nobody could help liking her, Miss Rosie. It's just like having a bit o'
sunshine in the house. The mistress would ha' missed you bad enough if she
hadn't had Miss Sampson to cheer her up. But nobody could feel lonely with
her about. And it's wonderful what she knows about a garden."
"Do they have gardens in Australia?" asked Rose. It was the sort of remark
Pauline might have made. But Rose was feeling very cross.
Wilmot did not notice the spitefulness in her voice. "They seem to have
lovely gardens out there, my dearie. Miss Sampson was telling me of the
different flowering trees they've got when she was in the kitchen on
Tuesday. I'd promised to show her how to make those drop cakes you're so
fond of, Miss Rosie. But I'll go and see about your tea.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81