"So very thoughtless of Mrs. Dalrymple," Miss Dalton asserted, falling in promptly with the little note of implied blame. "Young brides never do think of anybody except themselves. But after all, must you go at all? Why not stay quietly in Westford? It really is very soon to have to turn out, and be among a lot of strangers. Why not just stop behind?"
"I did think of that—but—the house is to be closed and left in charge of servants," Hermione faltered. "And the friends with whom I hoped to stay are—unfortunately—cannot have me just then."
Was this absolute truth Hermione's conscience gave her a sharp twinge. But the others suspected nothing. She spoke so quietly and simply, with no appearance of expecting anything from them. A little sigh came once more, and then she added—
"But it cannot be helped. One must make the best of things. Only, of course, it is a change."
Hermione had won her will at last. Three sentences broke in quick succession from her sympathising hearers.
"Mother, don't you think you could persuade Miss Rivers—?"
"My dear, it's plain enough what you've got to do! You just come and stay here while your cousins are away!"
"Yes, yes; that's it, Miss Rivers. You make our house your home. Let other folks go their own way. We'll take you in, and count it an honour; and you shall be as quiet as you like—not see a single person, if you don't feel yourself disposed."
"Thank you!" Hermione answered faintly, glancing from one to another, "But, indeed—"
A sudden doubt swept through her mind. Would this plan be really better than the other? Apart from Mrs. Trevor, might not East Bourne be the pleasanter alternative?