"It is not that," said Flora, looking diverted.
"Then I shall carry you off with me--I positively shall; you shall be the belle of the London season; your time shall be crammed so full with engagements, balls, operas, concerts, fêtes, that you will scarcely know day from night!"
"I do not think that my mother would approve of that."
"Well, then, you shall go to no place of which your mother, and Mr. Ward, and the whole clerical body from bishop to curate, would not approve. We'll take you to Exeter Hall, and the Museum, and the Royal Institution, panoramas, cycloramas, dioramas! Oh! there is no place like London for opening the mind. A green bud of rusticity expands at once into a full-blown rose there."
"May there not be such things as over-blown roses?"
"No fear; I'll answer for you, coz, if you'll only go back with me to London. Say that you will--only say that you will," and Ada placed her arm caressingly around Flora.
"I really cannot, at present," replied her cousin, "though I should very much enjoy paying you a visit. But it would be impossible for me to quit home just now, when we are expecting my sister-in-law from Barbadoes--"
"Ah! yes; the widow of your half-brother," said Ada. "John married a Creole lady, did he not, rather against the wishes of your poor father?"
Flora bowed her head in assent.
"Then your sister-in-law is a perfect stranger to you?"