“Has no patient that you have nursed died until now?”
“Yes, but there were always plenty of relatives and friends to make arrangements; my duty was done and I went home.”
“Well, the first thing I will do is to lay aside my hat and cape, seeing the lady of the house is not polite enough to ask me.”
“Oh, please excuse me!” said Diana, reddening; “I really forgot it.”
“No harm done,” said Miss Flint, as she shook her cape with a vigorous snap, folded it and placed it on the pillow of the lounge and laid her hat upon it. “Had she no relatives?”
Miss Flint had nodded toward the other room while smoothing her raven hair with the palms of her hands until it shone like satin, and Diana had no difficulty in understanding.
“Yes, she has a brother and sister in Ohio. Her sister, Mrs. Warfield, has been written to twice, but has not answered either letter. They were opposed to her marrying Mr. Ashley; she told me so herself, last evening, poor dear;” and Diana’s eyes filled at the remembrance.
“No wonder they were opposed,” commented Miss Flint as she glanced about the neat but simply furnished room. “If she had possessed the common sense that a woman of her appearance should have had, she would have been opposed, too.”
“It may be that they won’t pay any attention to her, or it may be that Mrs. Warfield is on her way here,” resumed Diana. “I do hope she is, for I want to get away. I feel it such a responsibility.”
“What is to be done with her?” asked Miss Flint, nodding toward Hilda. “She will be in our way.”