“Which new cousin?” asked Gertrude.
“I don’t mean the Baroness!” the young girl rejoined, with her laugh. “I thought you expected to see so much of him.”
“Of Felix? I hope to see a great deal of him,” said Gertrude, simply.
“Then why do you want to keep him out of the house?”
Gertrude looked at Lizzie Acton, and then looked away.
“Should you want me to live in the house with you, Lizzie?” asked Clifford.
“I hope you never will. I hate you!” Such was this young lady’s reply.
“Father,” said Gertrude, stopping before Mr. Wentworth and smiling, with a smile the sweeter, as her smile always was, for its rarity; “do let them live in the little house over the way. It will be lovely!”
Robert Acton had been watching her. “Gertrude is right,” he said. “Gertrude is the cleverest girl in the world. If I might take the liberty, I should strongly recommend their living there.”
“There is nothing there so pretty as the northeast room,” Charlotte urged.