“I could not bear for you to think that.”
“And I ought never to have thought it, my dear,” said the little lady, softly patting and smoothing Grey’s hair. “Why, I ought to have known you a long time ago; and now I do know you, I hear you are going away?”
“Yes,” said Grey, “and so very soon. My father wishes me to join him at the station.”
“Yes, I know, my dear. It is quite right, for he is alone.”
“And he says it is dull without me; but he wished me to thoroughly finish my education first.”
“You don’t recollect mamma, my dear, the doctor tells me?”
“No,” said Grey, shaking her head. “She died when I was a very little child—the same year as Mrs Perowne.”
“A sad position for two young girls,” said Miss Rosebury.
“But the Misses Twettenham have always been so kind,” said Grey, eagerly. “I shall be very, very sorry to go away?”
“And will Helen Perowne be very, very sorry to go away?”