“They’re an ancient family,” said Sophia Jane, “and you must be sure to call them De La Roche now.”
“I always thought,” said Margaretta, “that there was something gentlemanly about Monsieur. Odd, you know, but not common.”
“Oh, certainly not common!” replied Nanna.
It seemed strange to Susan to hear that, for she remembered how they had both thought it impossible to invite anyone to meet him at Pegwell Bay.
She was still occupied with wondering about this when the evening post came in. There was a letter for Aunt Hannah, and when she had read it she looked over her glasses at Susan.
“Dear me!” she said. “This is sudden news indeed. Your mother writes from London, my dear, where she arrived yesterday.”
“Am I to go home?” said Susan, getting up from her chair as though ready to start at once.
“Nurse is to fetch you the day after to-morrow,” said Aunt Hannah, looking at the letter again. “Are you in such a great hurry to leave us that you cannot wait till then?”
Susan had grown fond of Aunt Hannah, and did not wish to seem ungrateful. She went and stood by her chair and said earnestly:
“I’m very sorry to go away. I am, indeed; but, of course, I want to see Mother.”