“And you?”
“Too expensive!” said Amethyst, with an odd slow smile. “There’ll be enough to contrive for without that.”
“Where is the money coming from? Is the house all Carrie’s?”
“Well, no. The fact is, father has made it up with Charles, and they have agreed to sell some farms in Derbyshire. We are to see Charles sometimes. He is going on better—”
“And is meant for Carrie! I declare, Amethyst, that’s too bad!” said Una, sitting up. “And have you seen him?”
“No, and I can’t recollect him at all. Can you?”
“I can. Amethyst, he’s a horror! Even long ago we all hated him. I should hate him to come near you?”
“Well, Una,” said Amethyst, shrugging her shoulders. “We must just do the best we can. Least said, soonest mended—as we settled long ago.”
“Oh,” said Una, with tears in her eyes, “it’s awfully hard lines on us! I want to tell you—somehow I couldn’t write. I see everything differently—since I came here—”
She broke off, and hid her face on Amethyst’s shoulder.