Reluctantly Deleah broke the envelope and drew forth two tickets for the evening's concert.
"The ten-shilling places!" Bessie cried. "We'll go, Deleah. We'll go!"
Deleah looked with a little distrust at the tickets lying beside her plate. "It's all very well, but I should so much prefer presents without all this mystery about them. Months ago I would have thanked Mr. Boult if you and mama would have allowed me. I am sure it would have been better. I am sure we ought to thank him."
"That doesn't matter now. We've got to think about the concert. I'm going to it, and I can't go without you."
"I don't know if we ought to go, Bessie—"
"Why not, pray?"
Deleah was silent.
"Because of papa? He's been dead nearly two years. Are we never to show our noses among other people again? You do carry things to extremes, Deda!"
Deleah accepted the reproach meekly, having nothing to say—nothing, that is, which Bessie would understand.
Then the boarder came in, for it was early closing afternoon, and took his place by the side of Franky.