“Why, the child, young as she is, knows some of the ways of society,” thought the great lady. “I only wish that that miserable little Evelyn was half as refined and nice as this poor, neglected girl.”
Presently the drive came to an end. Sylvia had not enjoyed herself so much for many a day.
“Now, listen, Sylvia,” said Lady Frances: “I am a very plain-spoken woman; when I say a thing I mean it, and when I think a thing, as a rule, I say it. I like you. That I am curious about you, and very much inclined to wonder who you are and what you are doing in this place, goes without saying; but of course I do not want to pry into what you do not wish to tell me. Your secret is your own, my dear, and not my affair; but, at the same time, I should like to befriend you. Can you come to the Castle sometimes? When you do come it will be as a welcome guest.”
“I do not know how I can come,” replied Sylvia. She colored, looked down, and her face turned rather white. “I have not a proper dress,” she added. “Oh, not that I am poor, but——”
Lady Frances looked puzzled. She longed to say, “I will give you the dress you need,” but there was something about Sylvia’s face which forbade her.
“Well,” she said, “if you can manage the dress will you come? This, let me see, is Thursday. The girls are to have a whole holiday on Saturday. Will you spend Saturday with us? Now you must say yes; I will take no refusal.”
Sylvia’s heart gave a bound of pleasure.
“Is it right; is it wrong?” she said to herself. “But I cannot help it,” was her next thought; “I must have my fun—I must. I do like Audrey so much! And I like Evelyn too—not, of course, like Audrey; but I like them both.”
“You will come, dear?” said Lady Frances. “We shall be very pleased to see you. By the way, your address is——”
“The Priory,” said Sylvia hastily. “Oh, please, Lady Frances, don’t send any message there! If you do I shall not be allowed to come to you. Yes, I will come—perhaps never again, but I will come on Saturday. It is a great pleasure; I do not feel able to refuse.”