"I like to have you up here with me, but your husband and friends will think I am selfish, dear; so you had better go back to the drawing-room. Miss Ida Hayes is not charming enough to make up to Eliot for your absence."
Una turned around suddenly and looked at her gravely.
"Very well, then; I will go, since you don't want me; but I shall go to my own room," she said.
And she did, and there Edith found her, pretending to read, when she came to seek her half an hour later.
"You selfish child! put down your book. We are going to have some music, and we want your alto," she said.
"I can not sing to-night; my head aches," Una answered; and none of Edith's arguments could alter her refusal. She was obliged to go down alone and make excuses for her sister-in-law.
"She has a headache, and can not come down," she said; and Sylvie laughed in her sleeve.
"She is jealous of Ida," she thought, maliciously.