“His engagement is almost over. Violante, how should you like to go to England?”
“To England?” echoed Violante, with a startled blush. “I shall never go there—now. Now I cannot sing,” she added.
“I think Uncle and Aunt Grey will perhaps ask us—you and me, I mean, to stay for a time and see what we could do.”
“But what would become of father?”
“I think he would like to travel about for a little. Perhaps he would come to England too.”
“And should you teach our cousins as you used to do?” said Violante.
“No, the girls are all grown up, and so are the boys. But I might find other children to teach—or—or—In short, Violante, I cannot tell exactly; but you know Uncle Grey has always wished to see you, and now that you are free to leave home I should not wonder if he asked us.”
Violante sat musing.
“I will go, then,” she said, after a pause. Rosa could hardly help laughing at the unconscious decision of the tone, which, though Violante had merely meant acquiescence, showed that the idea was not distasteful to her.