“Yes’m,” responded Angelina, too much interested in a box of photographs on the table to reply with her usual loquacity.
“Then there is something?” Julia questioned.
“Well, nothing in particular. I wouldn’t mind living at the North End again. It’s livelier than Shiloh.”
“But surely,” said Julia, “you are all much more comfortable at Shiloh than you could possibly be at the North End.”
“I don’t know,” rejoined Angelina. “I don’t feel so very comfortable at Shiloh. I ain’t busy enough, and I ain’t idle enough really to enjoy it.”
Julia understood Angelina, poorly though she had expressed her meaning.
“Does your mother know where you are to-night? Won’t she be worried if you stay away so late?”
“I told her that I was coming to Cambridge to see you. She’ll know that you will look out for me.”
“When you next come to Cambridge you must start earlier. It is altogether too late for you to go home now. I will have a bed made for you on this divan, and to-morrow you can go back to Shiloh.”
“Oh, thank you,” cried Angelina, her face beaming at the thought of a night away from Shiloh.