"Then what does it mean? What makes you so miserable and uneasy?"
"I don't know—I can not tell you—I have not an idea. I think I'm possessed!" she answers wildly; then, after a pause, throwing her arms round Pauline's neck in feverish appeal—"But it makes no difference to you, Polly; you love me just the same, don't you, dear sister? You have not changed, or grown cold, or ceased to care for me; you love me just the same? Oh, Polly, Polly darling, say you do!"
Pauline's answer is soothing, tender, and reassuring enough to calm the sudden storm; and the two sisters spend the morning together in loving amity; then, at Lottie's suggestion, they all three adjourn to the kitchen, to make a big plum-cake for Hal's Easter hamper, to the astonishment and dismay of Mrs. Armstrong's accomplished cook, who strongly objects to the "messin' and mashin' and worritin'" of amateurs in her domain.
The woolly snow-clouds clear away in the afternoon, and the leafless branches of the grove are bright with crisp frosty sunlight.
"Lottie, Lottie," calls out Addie from the drawing-room, where she has been finishing letters for the post, a ring of the coming spring in her fresh young voice, "tell Poll to put on her hat and cloak quickly, and we'll all three have a scamper through the grove. The pond behind Sallymount farm ought to be frozen now; we might have a grand slide on the sly."
"Oh, but, Addie, don't you know Poll's gone? She ordered the carriage after luncheon, packed up her ball-dress, and went off to the Wynyards' for the ball. Didn't she tell you?"
CHAPTER XVIII.
The snow has gone from the ground, the frost from the air, blustering March is paving the way for tearful April. Miss Pauline Lefroy, luxuriously basking in an easy-chair by the fire, a limp manuscript resting on her knee, is murmuring words of sweetest love in a low, monotonous voice to Mr. Everard, stretched on the rug at her feet—words which reach Mrs. Armstrong in detached sentences, as she sits by the window, sewing, a sufficiently listless and preoccupied chaperone to satisfy even the most exacting lover.
"'And what a beautiful ring!'"