“Pray, Katharine!” exclaimed Mrs Trevor, putting up her hand with a shudder; “the very idea destroys me. It is an east wind. Warmth and rest are the only cure.” She put up her double eye-glasses, and looked at Dennis and Maisie. “Did you drive over? How are the children?”
“As jolly as possible,” said Aunt Katharine. She stood on the hearthrug, flapping her gloves against one hand. Maisie always thought that her aunt wore shorter skirts, rougher tweed dresses, and stouter boots when she came to Haughton, than at any other time. Also, she seemed to speak louder, and to look rosier and broader altogether. Perhaps this only seemed to be so, because Aunt Trevor’s skin was so fair, and her voice so gentle, and because she wore such graceful soft gowns, and such tiny satin slippers. Maisie was very fond of Aunt Katharine, but she admired Aunt Trevor’s appearance immensely, and always gazed at her as though she were a picture hanging on the wall. Dennis did not share in this. He fidgeted about in his chair, fingered the things in his pockets, hoped it would soon be time for luncheon, and wondered whether he and Maisie would be allowed to go out first.
“Ah, here is Philippa!” said Aunt Katharine.
A little girl of about Maisie’s age—but so much taller and slighter that she looked a great deal older—came into the room. She had rather long features, a pointed chin, and a very pure white complexion, with hardly a tinge of colour; and, as she ran forward to kiss her little brown-faced cousins, she was a great contrast to them in every way. Her dress, which was prettily made and fanciful, and her gleaming bronze shoes added to this; for Dennis and his sister seldom wore anything but serge or holland, and their boots were of strong country make, which made their feet look rather clumsy.
“If the children must wear such thick boots, Katharine,” Mrs Trevor often said, “you might at least have them made to fit. It gives them the air of little clodhoppers.”
But Miss Chester went her own way, and Aunt Trevor’s objections had no effect on her arrangements.
“Ask if we may go out!” said Dennis, in an urgent whisper to his cousin, who at once ran up to her mother, and repeated the request in the midst of her conversation with Aunt Katharine. Mrs Trevor cast an anxious glance out the window.
“Well, my darling, as you have a cold and the wind is in the east, I think you had better play indoors. You can take your cousins into the long gallery and have a nice game.”
Philippa frowned and pushed out her lower lip:
“I want to go out,” she murmured.