"Thank you," said Mrs. Varian, with a smile, covering up Missy's silence. "I hope it need not be a matter of instruction either side. I can quite understand neither young lady would enjoy that."
"I don't know anybody would enjoy it less than Missy," cried Miss Varian, sharply, for she scorned the making of peace. "But what we need, is not always the thing we enjoy."
"When do you expect your guests?" said Mrs. Varian, anxious to create a diversion.
"The latter part of the week, I should think; I don't quite know what day. The children will be so much the better for having them, I shall be glad when they are here. I shall feel so much safer about Jay, when I am in town. You can understand for the last two weeks I have had a continual feeling of uneasiness when I am away from him."
Considering that he had spent every day since that fatal time, in Missy's care, this did seem a little hard. She did not reflect, that perhaps he did not know it—her bitter feelings did not favor calm reflection.
"Tell us something more about our future neighbors," said Miss Varian. But Mr. Andrews had no ability to tell things when he was uncomfortable, and the atmosphere was palpably uncomfortable, murky and lowering. He didn't know what he had done, poor man, he had thought he had done such a fine thing. But in spite of Mrs. Varian's gentle courtesy, and Miss Varian's cheerful bantering, he knew he had made a mistake. He wished himself well out of it, and was glad when Mrs. Varian found it chilly and got up to go into the house. He had found it chilly for some time.
CHAPTER XIX.
FIVE CANDLES.
