"I hope it isn't Mr. McKenzie, for he'd rather be excused from our attentions," she said with a laugh.
"No," said Mr. Andrews, looking embarrassed, "it isn't any of my boorish men, Miss Rothermel. It is—some ladies."
"Oh!" said Missy, and she dropped her eyes on Jay's pictures, and did not say another word. What she thought, it would be unwise to conjecture. For she felt a keen, fine tingle of anger all through her, and she knew, as she looked at Jay's yellow mane lying on her lap, that he was going to be taken away from her more surely than by Alphonsine, and that there were breakers ahead, and her short-lived peace was going to founder. She went through it all in such a flash that she felt her fate was settled when Mr. Andrews spoke again.
"I have asked my cousin, a charming person, Mrs. Eustace, whom I am sure you'll like, to come with her daughter and spend the remainder of the summer with me. They are without a home of their own at present, and are drifting, and it seems to suit them very well."
"No doubt," said Miss Varian, with keen interest. "I'm sure they'll have a nice time. Is the daughter pretty?"
"I believe so, rather," returned Mr. Andrews, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "It is two or three years since I have seen her. They have been living abroad some time."
"I am sure," said Mrs. Varian, with gentle sympathy, "it will be a very pleasant thing for you. You may depend upon us to do all we can to make the ladies satisfied with Yellowcoats. I am sure they can't help liking it if they do not care for gayety."
"I am certain that they don't. They seem to me the very persons to be happy here. They are cultivated; I'm sure you'll like them, Miss Rothermel, and the daughter has quite a talent for drawing, and they are cheerful and always ready to be amused, and are generally very popular."
"Well, well," cried Miss Varian, "now that sounds pleasant. They are just what we want here. Missy needs somebody to stir her up a little, she is a trifle set and selfish, and I tell her she never will be popular till she gets over that and goes into things with a little dash of jollity. It doesn't do to be too dictatorial and exclusive and superior; people leave you behind and forget that you're anything but a feature of the landscape. It's always been your mistake, Missy. Now we'll see if it's too late to mend, and whether this young lady and her mother will not teach you something."
"I am sure," said Mr. Andrews, uncomfortably, "Miss Rothermel doesn't need to be taught—anything. I should think it was rather the other way."