"Did Tom"—there were many things the old lady, knowing Tom, wished to ask. But Tom was in his grave, and she contented herself with remarking, "I certainly am petrified."
Stark gave a little smiling nod at them, and began making his way to the door. It seemed to him emphatically that this was a family conclave.
"Billy," called the old lady, "did you ever hear of such a thing in your life? Tom had a wife two years before he died, and not a word. Did you ever dream of such a thing? Electra, I could trounce you for not telling me." Then, as no one spoke, she asked sharply, "Does Peter know?"
"Yes, Madam Fulton," Rose returned. "He brought me here. Not quite that. He assured me I might come."
"Come! of course you had to come. You belong here. Why aren't you staying with us? Electra, haven't you seen to it?"
Electra was immovable, and the other girl turned to her a mute glance. To Billy Stark it said many things. Reproach was in it, and a challenging, almost a hard appeal. Rose looked like a gentle thing that has been forced to fight. But she spoke to Madam Fulton.
"I must go," she said, with her exquisite deference. "I mustn't tire you."
"Tire me! I'm never tired. Well, you must come again. You must come to stay. Electra will see to that."
But Electra only walked to the library door with the departing guest, and presently Billy Stark caught the white shimmer of a gown, as Rose went down the path. Electra was looking eagerly from him to her grandmother.
"Well, Mr. Stark," she said, as if she hurried him, "what do you think of her?"