“I’ll manage it. But how is mother? Is she very bad?”
“She is worse than usual; she requires more care, constant attention. There was no one else who would suit,” he added. “Come along now, I’ll tell you all presently.”
“You don’t want me to see her to-night, do you?”
“Not unless you wish to. She is upstairs.”
“Does she know I have come?”
“Yes, she knows; at least she hopes with the rest of us that you have come. You had better run in and see her for a few minutes; you needn’t begin your duties until to-morrow.”
“Thank God for that reprieve,” thought Marcia.
The next instant there was a loud clamour in the hall, and three exceedingly pretty girls, varying in age from fourteen to eighteen, bustled out and surrounded Marcia.
“You have come! What an old dear you are! Now you’ll tell us all about Germany. Oh, isn’t it fun!”
Nesta’s voice was the most ringing. She was the youngest of the girls, and her hair was not yet put up. She was wearing it in a long plait down her back. It curled gracefully round her pretty temples. She had sweet blue eyes and a caressing manner; she was rather untidy in her dress, but there was a little attempt at finery about her. The other two sisters were more commonplace. Molly was very round and fat, with rosy cheeks, small, dark eyes and a good-humoured mouth, a gay laugh and a somewhat tiresome habit of giggling on the smallest provocation.