“I must keep them within view,” Mrs. Clarendon said to Kingcote, “but I have no intention of wearying myself by walking round each room. You have been here already; you can point out anything you would like me to see. Where are your friend’s?”
“Much further on.”
“What do you think of these girls?”
“The younger one is delightful.”
“You don’t care for Rhoda; yet she has always been my favourite. Poor things!” she added in a lower tone, “isn’t it hard that they should have nothing in life to look forward to?”
Hilda turned to draw Mrs. Clarendon’s attention to a picture.
“Miss Warren has not come with you?” Kingcote asked, when there was again opportunity.
“No; she kept at home. But the girls have just been surprising me. If you buy to-day’s Tattler you’ll find something that she has written—a description—something about the river.”
“Verse?”
“No, prose. They are all in great excitement about it. I must get the paper; I don’t suppose she’ll send it to me.”