—no, it couldn’t be borne.
“I don’t think I’ll come down to the village with you to-day,” she said, looking up at Lotty with eyes suddenly gone dim. “I think I want to think.”
“All right,” said Lotty, at once starting off briskly down the path. “But don’t think too long,” she called back over her shoulder. “Write and invite him at once.”
“Invite whom?” asked Rose, startled.
“Your husband.”
Chapter 12
At the evening meal, which was the first time the whole four sat round the dining-room table together, Scrap appeared.
She appeared quite punctually, and in one of those wrappers or tea-gowns which are sometimes described as ravishing. This one really was ravishing. It certainly ravished Mrs. Wilkins, who could not take her eyes off the enchanting figure opposite. It was a shell-pink garment, and clung to the adorable Scrap as though it, too, loved her.
“What a beautiful dress!” exclaimed Mrs. Wilkins eagerly.
“What—this old rag?” said Scrap, glancing down at it as if to see which one she had got on. “I’ve had it a hundred years.” And she concentrated on her soup.