"Oh, as far as that goes," said Mrs. Dent, "it wouldn't make any difference about her being ready. You could go home whenever you felt that you must, and she could come afterward."
"Alone?"
"Why not? She's a big girl now, and you don't have to change cars."
"My niece will go home when I do, and not travel alone; and if I can't wait here for her, in the house that used to be her mother's and my sister's home, I'll go and board somewhere," returned Rebecca with warmth.
"Oh, you can stay here as long as you want to. You're welcome," said Mrs. Dent.
Then Rebecca started. "There she is!" she declared in a trembling, exultant voice. Nobody knew how she longed to see the girl.
"She isn't as late as I thought she'd be," said Mrs. Dent, and again that curious, subtle change passed over her face, and again it settled into that stony impassiveness.
Rebecca stared at the door, waiting for it to open. "Where is she?" she asked presently.
"I guess she's stopped to take off her hat in the entry," suggested Mrs. Dent.
Rebecca waited. "Why don't she come? It can't take her all this time to take off her hat."