“No?” was all the comment in the same tone.
But her mother was not so easily put off.
“Did you see your pretty invalid friend and her Christmas work?”
“No, I did not go in.”
“That’s queer. I thought you were going there. Where, then, did you go?”
“Oh, I only walked around and said over French verbs. It’s grown very chilly.”
“Yes. Miss Arran came in and opened a window. I felt so cold—I wish people would let you have your room as you want it. They can swing their’s wide open if they want to.”
She was lying on the bed. She looked old and gray and wrinkled.
“Do you feel poorly, mother?”
“No, not when I am good and warm.”