“No, no, only—come with me to the druggist; I can’t tell you just now—oh, I’ll write you a note. You cannot go there this week. Mother has a friend staying with her and I have gone to Mrs. Lane’s to board for a week, there is so much school work just now.”
“How very mysterious you are,” studying her while she colored under the scrutiny.
“Well, it threatens snow and it would be easier for me there. Don’t worry about us—I’ll write this evening and tell you the ‘whys;’ and now dear, don’t feel vexed if I leave you. I have a number of errands to do, and I’ll surely see you on Sunday.”
She had taken a few steps, then she turned and said: “Lilian, do not mention meeting me today; I ask it as a favor. I will explain it all to you. Trust me.”
What did it mean? Was Claire ill? She had never seen Miss Trenham so confused. Evidently she could not have her come to the house. Lilian felt curiously dismal. There were the shops in holiday attire, but she said she did not feel joyous, Christmasy. She rambled about a little. There was the Clairvoyant’s sign. Could any one tell about the future, even another’s health? For, somehow it seemed as if her mother had been curiously distraught of late. If she could know about the future! Oh, her mother must live the year out, and she was learning a great many things. She would do for an under teacher then, and by the time she was twenty—
It was cloudy and raw and she hurried up a little. A merry group of girls passed her laughing and chatting. Why, she had never felt so alone, not even back in Laconia. Last Christmas had been gay and pleasant with girls in Sunday and everyday school.
She went in at the side entrance. She could have taken the other but this was nearer. She had the right to a good many privileges that under some circumstances she would have claimed, but the supercillious nod or the lifting of the brows cut like a knife. Her place was on her mother’s side.
Mrs. Dane opened her door on the landing and crossed the hall.
“Oh, you have returned. Did you see your friend, Miss Trenham?” There was something curious in the tone.
“I did not go to the house.” Yet she colored as if it was a prevarication.