“Doesn't mamma expect papa to dinner?” asked she, alarmed; “I hope so.”
“I'll go and inquire,” George said, going; but she followed him, trembling—she did not know why. She took George's arm, and both went to the piazza, where Carlota, Rosario and Doña Josefa were waiting for George to go with them.
“Mamma, don't you expect papa to dinner?” asked she.
“Yes, but he might be late; so we will dine at Mrs. Mechlin's, and he and Gabriel will take supper here on their return.”
“I will wait for them here.”
“Will you not go to Mrs. Mechlin's?”
“No, please. I'll stay home.”
“Take my advice, and don't see Clarence yet,” Carlota said.
“Why not, pray?”
“Because, after what his father did and said, the least you have to do with the Darrells the more it will be to your honor,” Rosario said, sententiously.