“Hush,” continued the niece. “You will think me domineering; but please don’t give any judgment without seeing; for they look to you as an arbitrator, and casual words will weigh.”
“Thank you, Ethel; perhaps you are right. When does he think of coming out?”
“When he is ordained—some time next year.”
“Does she live with you?”
“I suppose she lives with Flora; but we always manage to get her when Norman is at home.”
“You have told me nothing of Flora or Mary.”
“I have little real to tell. Good old Mary! I dare say Harry talked to you plentifully of her. She is a—a nice old darling,” said Ethel fondly. “We want her again very much, and did not quite bargain for the succession of smart visits that she has been paying.”
“With Flora?”
“Yes. Unluckily George Rivers has taken an aversion to the Grange, and I have not seen Flora this whole year.”
Ethel stopped short, and said that she must not keep Margaret expecting her. Perhaps her aunt guessed that she had touched the true chord of anxiety.