On hearing Mr. Sotheby spoken of, Anne felt strangely embarrassed, and to turn the conversation she asked: “How is your mother? Will you tell her that I am back and that I shall come round to the shop to see her as soon as I can?”
“Mother is not in the shop now,” replied Rachel almost rudely.
They had reached the edge of the green, and the little girl stopped short, motionless and stubborn, by the little bridge.
“Mother is never in the shop now, nor am I. Father is made the manager, and there is a man under him learning to take his place.”
“Is Richard here or in London?” Anne asked. “My husband spent a day looking for him but couldn’t find him.”
“Richard’s busy.” This time the rudeness in the child’s voice was unmistakable, and there was a pause whilst Anne looked down into the pale face working with passion. The little girl was trying hard to keep back her tears.
“I’m to go to school at Cambridge. Richard says I am to get a scholarship to go to college.”
“Come a little farther and tell me about it,” said Anne.
Rachel’s emotion upset her, and she was tired of standing still.
“No, I must go back now.” The little girl was still uneasy, and shifted from foot to foot.