‘I am very sorry.’
They sat down then beside her. She held Pauline’s strong hand between her wasted fingers.
‘Dear Mildred Davis! You have her eyes and brow, my child. It does me good to see you.’
‘That is just like papa,’ said Belle. ‘He says he can almost fancy himself back in the old home with Aunt Mildred getting him ready for school.’
Pauline coloured with pleasure. No one spoke of her mother at Sleepy Hollow.
She looked through the French windows into the conservatory.
‘How beautiful the flowers are!’
‘You love them? Of course you must, to be your mother’s child. It is such a comfort to me to lie here and listen to them talk.’
‘Talk!’ exclaimed Pauline. ‘Do they do that, my lady?’
Tryphosa smiled.