‘It wouldn’t be possible—would it?’
‘Why,’ he answered with a laugh, ‘last time you were here you spoke in quite the other way. You were utterly miserable at the thought of living through it alone.’
‘Yes—I don’t know whether I could—even if—’
‘What are you thinking of?’
‘I’ve been talking with Mary,’ she replied, after an uneasy pause. ‘She has lived with us so long; and since father’s death it seems quite natural to make a friend of her. No one could be more devoted to me than she is. I believe there’s nothing she wouldn’t do. I believe I might trust her with any secret.’
The obvious suggestion demanded thought.
‘By-the-bye,’ said Tarrant, looking up, ‘have you seen your aunt again?’
Nancy’s face changed to a cold expression.
‘No. And I don’t think I shall.’
‘Probably you were as little sympathetic to her as she to you.’