“And why can she not?” said Lady Maude, looking kindly down in Pet’s changing face; “we will be delighted to have her with us. Do come, my dear.”
“I thank your ladyship, but I cannot.”
“Now, Pet, why? You can come if you like,” said Erminie.
“Indeed I can’t, Erminie. I must stay and console uncle Harry for your loss. The man-of-war on the mantel-piece will be quite inadequate to the task, and there he will be in sackcloth and ashes, rending his garments and tearing his hair—”
“His wig, you mean,” broke in Ranty.
“Ranty, be still. I should like to oblige you, Lady Erminie, but you perceive I can’t. It is one of the cardinal virtues consoling the afflicted, and I am trying to cultivate all the virtues preparatory to taking the black veil one of these days, and becoming a nun.”
“Not if I can help it,” said Ray, coming over.
“Well, but you can’t help it, you know,” said Pet, turning red, but flashing defiance in a way that made Lady Maude smile, and reminded Erminie of the Pet of other days; “and now I really must go before it gets any later. Erminie, I’ll come over early to-morrow and see you off, so I will not bid you good-by now. Ranty—”
“Oh, never mind Ranty,” interposed Ray; “let me be your escort home for once, Pet. Come, do not refuse me now. I have a great many things to say to you.”
Pet colored vividly, but she did not refuse, and nodding a good-by to the rest, they left the cottage together.