"Then I will write this very day," said Miss Frost; and Rosamund took care that she kept her word.
In consequence, just as the holidays at the Merrimans' began, on the very day that Mrs. Merriman walked all the way to The Follies in order to see Rosamund, the little Frosts also made their appearance on the scene.
Mrs. Merriman came an hour before the children. She was dressed in her usual prim and proper style, and Rosamund could not help owning to a distasteful feeling when she saw her. She and Irene were walking about in a considerable state of excitement. Irene had been planning every hour of the day for her visitors.
"You know I have never had visitors before," she said. "I don't exactly count you as a visitor. You are dearer to me than I am to myself. You are all the world to me; but these are visitors. If I could only forget that they belonged to Frosty all would be well."
"But you must on no account forget it. You must think of Frosty's pleasure as well as your own. You know you have promised—yes, you have promised me, you who don't tell lies—to go up, not down, in future. Oh, there is Mrs. Merriman! I must run and speak to her."
"That prim, dumpling sort of woman? Oh, all right, go; but don't stay long with her. I want you. I am beginning to count the minutes now. I feel so terribly anxious at your leaving me."
Rosamund almost wished that she were not obliged to leave The Follies at this juncture; but her own father and mother would not hear of her staying away from them. She accordingly left Irene on the present occasion, and walked across the lawn to meet Mrs. Merriman.
Mrs. Merriman paused when she saw her.
"How do you do, Rosamund?" she said. She spoke coldly, and did not hold out her hand.
Rosamund replied in as prim a voice as the little lady had used: