“Harry, dear, I always know when I hear you mention Mrs Gridley’s name, that you are becoming incoherent. I leave you. Quite the contrary. And please don’t use that naughty word in connection with my name again, or I may be driven to defend myself in a way that might not be agreeable to you. Dear me, I thought you were growing to be reasonable by this time. Don’t let Graeme see us quarrelling.”
“You look tired, dear,” said Graeme, as they went up-stairs together.
“Well, it was a little tedious, was it not? Of course, it wouldn’t do to say so, you know. However, I got through it pretty well, with little Etta’s help. Did you enjoy the Roxbury party much?”
“I kept wishing we had not separated,” said Graeme. “Oh! yes, I enjoyed it. They asked us there to-night to meet some nice people, they said. It is not to be a party. Harry is to dine here, and go with us, and so is Mr Millar.”
“It will be very nice, I daresay, only I am so very tired. However, we need not decide till after dinner,” said Rose.
After dinner she declared herself too sleepy for anything but bed, and she had a headache, besides.
“I noticed you looked quite pale this afternoon,” said Arthur. “Don’t go if you are tired. Graeme, what is the use of her going if she does not want to?”
“Certainly, she ought not to go if she is not well. But I think you would enjoy this much, better than a regular party? and we might come home early.”
“Oh! I enjoy regular parties only too well. I will go if you wish it, Graeme, only I am afraid I shall not shine with my usual brilliancy—that is all!”
“I hope you are really ill,” said Harry. “I mean, I hope you are not just making believe to get rid of it.”