“You must spend the day with us,” said the old lady. “Louise will be down in a minute. She has only run upstairs to change her dress.”
“And to read her letter,” he added.
“Her letter?”
“She had a letter from home,” he explained, and Mrs. Barry’s brow gloomed over.
“A letter from that odious relative, the daughter of the actress! Oh, how I wish I could break her off from those pernicious influences!” she sighed.
“Let me suggest a way,” cried Cecil Laurens, with sparkling eyes.
“So soon?” she thought, triumphantly; but her ardor was a little dampened when he continued:
“You know I return to Europe in a few weeks. Let me take your niece with me and place her at school with my sisters.”
She uttered a little gasp of dismay, and presently cried out:
“At school—Louise at school! What nonsense, Cecil! Why, she finished lessons long ago. She is plenty old enough to be married.”