As he spoke he moved quickly towards
his aunt. "Aunt Lucy, it is too cold for you here. Come in by the
dining-room fire. Why, you are trembling with the cold. The evening is
very chilly for April."
Pauline stood still for a moment gazing intently up at the picture, and
then followed the others into the dining-room. Before Tom had spoken to
his aunt she had seen how white and strange her face was--as white as if
she was about to faint. And a sudden idea had flashed upon Pauline, making
her heart beat fast.
That night, when Rhoda was brushing her hair, she heard a soft tap at the
door. To her surprise, it was Pauline who entered.
"I have come to borrow some matches," she said. "I find my box is empty.
How pretty your room is! So is mine. It is a charming house altogether.
May I sit down and talk to you a little? I want you and Miss Merivale to
spend a long day with us next week. Do you think you could persuade her to
come?"
The change in Pauline's manner was so extraordinary that Rhoda found it
difficult to speak. But Pauline did not appear to notice her constrained
answer. She sat down in the low chair by the window and took up the
photograph frame that stood there by Rhoda's little writing case and a
saucer filled with white violets and moss.
"May I look at this? It is your aunt and cousins, isn't it? What a dear
little fellow that is on your aunt's lap! Is that the little boy who was
ill? You took him into the country, didn't you?"
An irrepressible glimmer of fun came into Rhoda's dark eyes.
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