Red and White: A Tale of the Wars of the Roses

by Emily Sarah Holt

"Frid!" said little Dorathie in a whisper.

Frid held up a hushing finger with a smile.

"Frid!" came again; in a tone which showed that tears were not very far from Dorathie's blue eyes.

Frid's hand was held out in reply, and little Dorathie, understanding the gesture, sidled along the window-seat until she reached her sister in the opposite corner. There, nestled up close to Frideswide, and held fast by her arm, Dorathie put the melancholy question which was troubling her repose.

"Frid, be you going hence?—verily going?"

The answering nod was a decided affirmative.

"But both of you?—both thee and Agnes?"

Another silent, uncompromising nod from Frideswide.

"O Frid, I shall be all alone! Whatever must I do?"

And the tears came running from the blue eyes.