"Julia—oh, I thought I should find Mittie here," Hermione said, with a touch of embarrassment, and an evident intention to retreat. She seemed to dread anything in the shape of a tête-à-tête just now with anybody. Julia rose to meet her.
"Francesca called Mittie away. I think they are in the morning-room till tea-time. Won't you stay, Hermione? I want so much to speak to you."
Hermione stood still, two or three yards within the door, not approaching any nearer. "Yes. What do you want?" she asked.
"Won't you come and sit down here just for a minute or two?"
Hermione seemed unwilling to comply, but Julia's pleading manner prevailed, and she came slowly to the sofa.
"I must not stay," she said in an uneasy manner, not like her old self-confidence. "I have to take off my hat and jacket before tea— and it is getting rather late."
"Half-an-hour before tea—isn't it? I want much to say something."
Julia's cheeks were flushed, and her hand was unsteady. "Ought you not to be lying down?" asked Hermione.
"No; it doesn't matter. I have been resting, and I am so much better now. Isn't it wonderful to think how different things might have been in that dreadful accident?—and now both of us are getting on so well."
"Yes," was Hermione's response.