“I’d take a very tiny bit of the bed. I can make myself quite accommodating,” said Augusta.
“She would like it very much indeed,” said Mrs Grant.
“Of course you must come if my step-mother invites you,” I said.
Mrs Grant coloured; then she got up, walked to the table, and took up some plain sewing which she was doing, and began a long seam. She was making some clothes for the poor; she was never idle for a minute of her time.
“You can come, Augusta, as far as I am concerned,” I said.
“Of course you can; you needn’t share the same bed,” said Mrs Grant. “I think I can manage better for you than that, but I cannot give you a room apiece. If you will share the same room, that is all that is required.”
“Oh, it is too wonderful!” said Augusta.
“Come out, Augusta, or I shall be late,” I said.
We found ourselves in the street.
“Oh!” said Augusta. She walked on, not noticing me in the least. After a time she said, “To wake in the morning and to feel that you will breakfast with him, that you will dine with him, and that you will sup with him! To think that occasionally he may even look at you, and perhaps once or twice speak to you; and to know that this will go on for seven days—seven whole days, for I have been asked for a week! Dumps, do you think it is true? Do you think it is only a vision? I often have visions; they’re beautiful, some of them, but none of them equals this. To be in the house with him, and to hang on his words for a week!”