"Go and get mother's tea, and you, Charlie, fetch her some nice bread and butter," said Katherine, who, though six or seven years her sister-in-law's junior, looked at first sight older. "There was an elderly gentleman such as you describe, talking with the young man who rescued Cecil, and he was very polite and interested in Cecil, who broke away from me, though he had promised to stay by my side."
"Promised," repeated Mrs. Frederic, lightly, and carefully dusting her bonnet with her handkerchief. "What can you expect from a child's promise? But poor Cecil rarely does right in your eyes."
"Nonsense, Ada!"
"Not at all. I am very observant. But tell me, did Colonel Ormonde take much notice of Cecil?"
"I do not know. I was too much frightened to see anything but the dear child himself."
Mrs. Frederic did not reply for a moment; she seemed to be thinking deeply. "Where did you get those flowers—those you bought on Saturday for sixpence?"
"Oh! at the little florist's on Queen's Road. It was late in the evening, you know, or they would not have been so cheap."
"I should like some to-morrow to make the drawing-room look pretty, if possible, for Colonel Ormonde said he would call. He wishes to see some of my Otocammed photographs. Heigho! it is a miserable place to receive any one in."
"Well, you see, it must do."
"Really, Katherine, you are very unsympathetic. If you have a fault, dear, it is selfishness. You don't mind my saying so?"