“But if she is our cousin,” suggested Tom, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, “don’t you think we are bound to patronise our relations?”
“How could she be our cousin? Don’t be so foolish, Tom,” Rose answered sharply.
“A family connection, then,” returned Tom. “But perhaps you had better not mention the possibility to Miss Smythe. It would shock her too much. All her relations are in Debrett, aren’t they?”
Rose looked doubtfully at him. “I never know whether you like Pauline or not, Tom,” she said. “But I am sure you never heard her boast of her relations.”
“No, I never did, my dear; but I have somehow gathered the fact that they are very fine people indeed. I always feel I ought to be ashamed that we did not come over at the Conquest when I am talking to Miss Smythe.”
“Now you are laughing at her,” returned Rose, with some indignation in her voice. “I believe you are always laughing at her, Tom. And it is just because she is clever. Men always like stupid girls best, who think everything they say is wonderful.”
At this Tom laughed outright. “There is one clever little girl I am very fond of,” he said, “and it is going to be dull at Woodcote without her. When will you come back, Rosie? Don’t stay very long. I am sure Aunt Lucy is not well.”
“I must stay till Thursday. Pauline and Clare are going to have a musical At Home on Thursday. But I will come back on Friday, Tom. I must, I suppose.” And Rose tried to suppress a sigh.
“Do you really want to stay longer?” said Tom, with a wondering look at her. “I daresay Laura would spend a day or two with Aunt Lucy. I don’t think she ought to be alone, Rose.”
“Laura fidgets Aunt Lucy to death,” Rose answered quickly. “You know she does, Tom. Of course I shall come back on Friday. I promised Aunt Lucy I would.”