She was naturally the first to get command of herself, and by and by they got upon safe ground. But Missy was uneasy, stiff; Mr. Andrews wished the visit over many times before it was, no doubt.
"I will call my aunt," said Missy, "she enjoys visitors so much."
"Which is more than you do," thought Mr. Andrews as he watched her cross the room and ring a bell. But Miss Varian was long in coming.
"Don't you think Jay is growing nicely?" asked Mr. Andrews, trying to find a subject that was safe. He dared not mention Gabrielle, of course.
"Yes, he seems very well this spring. And he is a good boy, too, I think—for him, that is."
There was a certain pretty softening of her face, when she spoke of Jay, that never escaped Mr. Andrews. He liked to see it, it amused him as much as it pleased him. "Jay has made his first conquest," he thought. "This severe little lady is perfectly his slave."
"I am afraid he troubles you with his frequent visits. His nurse tells me he insists on coming very often," he said aloud.
"Oh, he never troubles me; sometimes I do not even see him. He is great friends with mamma."
"Mrs. Varian is well, I hope? I have thought very often your brother's absence must try her very much."
Most unreasonably the tears rushed into Missy's eyes at the allusion to her brother. The letter on her lap was to him, and she was rather less composed than usual.