“May I say it sometimes when we are alone together?” she said timidly. “I do like it so much!”
“If it is such a pleasure to you, I would not deprive you of it,” said Miss Fosbrook, laughing; “but don’t do so, except when we are alone, for your Mamma would not like me to seem younger still.”
“Oh, thank you! Isn’t it a nice secret?” cried Bessie, clinging to her hand: “and will you let me hug you sometimes?”
A little love was pleasant to Miss Fosbrook, when she was feeling lonely, and she took Bessie in her lap, and they exchanged caresses, to the damage of the collar that Miss Fosbrook’s sister had worked for her.
“And you don’t call me silly?” cried Bessie.
“That depends,” was the answer, with some arch fun; but Bessie had not much turn for fun, and presently went on—
“And you saw Ida Greville?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think of her?”
“I had not much opportunity of learning what to think.”