Now as the child shrank away from her, her thin hands dropped in her lap, her face looked whiter and her gray eyes with the heavy dark lashes grew sadder and more wistful.
A little murmur, not actually voiced and yet capable of being heard, ran through the room.
This time Lucy must have understood the antagonism among the group of Girl Scouts that her manner had created.
At one time, and only a few months before, Kara had been everything to her, sister and nurse and friend. A few months of wealth and she seemed completely spoiled.
“You have many friends, Kara, but if there is anything Mr. Hammond and I could possibly do for you, you have only to let us know,” Mrs. Hammond suggested at this moment, not very tactfully.
“You are very kind, but there is nothing to be done,” Kara returned coldly.
Apparently she had lost all interest in her guests, now that Lucy had so utterly forgotten the old days at the Gray House on the hill. She always had been an odd little creature, passionate, self willed and self seeking. Still, Kara had never doubted her affection.
Not yet eight o’clock and Kara not expected to retire until nine, nevertheless Tory looked about the room in search of Miss Mason. Kara was being wearied. Better the room full of people be asked to go outdoors. They could talk on in the deepening dusk.
At the open door Sheila Mason was talking to Miss Frean and Mr. Richard Fenton. At the moment she was not thinking of Kara and the three other visitors.
Trying to make up her mind to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Hammond herself, Tory saw that Mr. Hammond suddenly appeared restless and at the same time absorbed in thought.