"I hardly know how to receive this liberality," said the little woman, with tears in her eyes. "It don't seem right to accept it."
"Oh, nonsense! Be a mother to Rose, and seem glad to see us when we come after her. You have been very kind to me, Mrs. Prior, and I feel it now, indeed I do."
There was a touch of genuine feeling in Mrs. Mason's voice, as she bent forward and kissed Mrs. Prior on the cheek, with lips that were red and dewy as rose-buds. In her selfishness, she had not noticed Rose, who stood clinging to Mrs. Prior's dress, growing paler and paler at each word.
"Mother, are you going to leave me all alone!"
There was so much of sorrow in the child's voice that it reached even that vain heart.
"Never mind, Rosey, dear," said the mother, kissing the pale lips of her child. "It wont be long; besides, Mrs. Prior loves you dearly, and will be very kind."
"Indeed I will, darling," sobbed the little woman. "So now cheer up, Rose, and run off to be dressed," added the mother, beginning to tire of the scene; "do try and help me, Mrs. Prior, and see that your husband is ready; there must be no delay, for we have a long ride before us."
Mrs. Prior hurried off with Rose to her own private room, and in a marvellous short time the little girl came forth airy as a butterfly. The red coral glowing on her face and neck, the India muslin floating around her like a cloud.
Rose met Paul in the upper passage. He was looking sadly troubled. She went toward him and laid her hand in his.
"You are going?" he said, interpreting the act from his fears.