“What about, mother?” asked Audrey.
“About Evelyn.”
“Yes, mother?”
Audrey’s face looked anxious and troubled; Lady Frances’s scarcely less so.
“The child hates me,” said Lady Frances. “What I have done to excite such a feeling is more than I can tell you; from the first I have done my utmost to be kind to her.”
“It is difficult to know how best to be kind to Evelyn,” said Audrey in a thoughtful voice.
“What do you mean, my dear?”
“I mean, mother, that she is something of a little savage. She has never been brought up with our ideas. Do you think, mother—I scarcely like to say it to one whom I honor and love and respect as I do you—but do you think you understand her?”
“No, I do not,” said Lady Frances. “I have never understood her from the first. Your father seems to manage her better.”
“Ah, yes,” said Audrey; “but then, she belongs to him.”