“What a child you are! And what a colour your cheeks and lips are!” she said. “You are much—much prettier than Hélène, my dear.”
She got up and brought a picture from a side table to show it to her.
“I think she is lovely,” she said. “Is it became I am her mother?”
“Oh, no! Not because you are her mother!” exclaimed Robin. “She is angelic!”
She was rather angelic, with her delicate uplifted face and her communion veil framing it mistily.
The picture was placed near them and Robin looked at is many times as they took their tea. To be a companion to a girl with a face like that would be almost too much to ask of one’s luck. There was actual yearning in Robin’s heart. Suddenly she realized that she had missed something all her life, without knowing that she missed it. It was the friendly nearness of youth like her own. How she hoped that she might make Lady Etynge like her. After tea was over, Lady Etynge spoke pleasantly to Fräulein Hirsch.
“I know that you wanted to register a letter. There is a post-office just around the corner. Would you like to go and register it while I take Miss Gareth-Lawless upstairs? You have seen the rooms. You will only be away a few minutes.”
Fräulein Hirsch was respectfully appreciative again. The letter really was important. It contained money which she sent monthly to her parents. This month she was rather late, and she would be very glad to be allowed to attend to the matter without losing a post.
So she went out of the drawing-room and down the stairs, and Robin heard the front door close behind her with a slight thud. She had evidently opened and closed it herself without waiting for the footman.