If Tory’s speech startled her companion it was as unexpected in her own ears. What a fatal gift she had of speaking from the depth of her inner thought!
“Tory!” Miss Frean exclaimed.
“I am sorry. I had not intended to be rude, only what I said must be true. You are such a self-sufficient person, Memory Frean, and Uncle Richard and I are not. We have found we are a good deal alike since we have been living together, although I never believed I was in the least like my mother’s people. I suppose you won’t tell me why you will not allow Uncle Richard to be friends with you at present? He was enjoying coming to see you, and he calls on very few people.”
The older woman hesitated, her blue eyes, ordinarily serene, looking uncertain and troubled.
“You are an impetuous person, Tory, and will never fail in this world for any lack of sincerity. After all, there is no reason why I should not tell you what you ask! You may be annoyed with me, but I think I am right.”
Tory sighed.
“Yes, I suppose you are. You are one of the persons who would be right, yet I have an idea it has been hard for Uncle Richard.”
Her speech made Miss Frean’s answer more difficult, nevertheless she went on firmly:
“Your uncle and I were more than friends when we were younger. I don’t know how much or how little you have been told. His family never wished him to marry me, and for that and other reasons our engagement was broken. I have never cared for any one since. Well, this winter when we renewed our friendship I was enjoying it. I am lonelier than you believe, Tory, with your rather hard opinion of me. But by and by, Richard—Mr. Fenton seemed to have the impression that we might ignore the passing of nearly twenty years. I thought he was mistaken and that it was wiser we should not meet often. Do you understand?”
Tory shrugged her shoulders with the little foreign gesture that she had not yet wholly lost.