“I haven’t seen Tom for an age,” she said; “but when we were younger we were exactly alike. Tom—it was wicked of him—once dressed up in a skirt and cloak, and hat of mine, and went into my mother’s room and asked if she wanted anything in the town as he was going there with the governess. My mother gave him all sorts of feminine commissions and never suspected him till he burst out laughing. His mother and mine were sisters, and our fathers brothers, you know. Has he changed much?”
“He is still exactly like you,” said Maud, who was beginning to feel more at her ease.
“Tom’s getting quite famous, isn’t he?” the girl went on. “That will serve to differentiate us. And he’s got a baby. How funny it seems! We always said he would never grow up.”
“He hasn’t grown up much,” said Maud. “He is just like a boy still in many ways.”
“It’s such a pity one has to get older,” remarked Violet. “I’m sure I shall never enjoy myself so much when I am old, and I shall get stuffy and think about complications and worries. At present I never worry.”
Maud smiled.
“I am afraid I must be getting old,” she said; “in fact, I came here in order to forget complications and worries.”
Violet sat up with an air of surprise.
“Oh, please don’t worry,” she said, “or you will spoil it all. And we can have such a charming time if we like.”
Maud rose.