“I’m sure she knows,” returned Tom, with conviction. “But don’t say anything to her, Rosie. I shouldn’t have told you unless”—
“I’m glad you told me, Tom,” said Rose, drawing a deep breath. “And I’m sure I shall like her. I’m sure she must be nice.”
Tom beamed at her. “But you did see her for a moment, Rosie. She came here while you were staying with Miss Smythe last month.”
“Yes; she sat at that table, and wrote the letters,” Rose said, nodding towards the little side table in the corner. “She had a brown dress on, I remember. Tom, am I expected to say that I thought her very pretty? I hardly looked at her.”
“Well, you will see her on Saturday,” Tom said.
Rose noticed that his voice sounded quite different when he spoke of Rhoda. And there came a look into his face she had never seen there before. It was impossible for her to cherish any jealous feelings in face of the great fact that Tom was in love. It thrilled her to think of it.
That evening, when Tom was gone, and she and Pauline were sitting together in their little sitting-room, she let her book lie unheeded on her lap, while she looked forward dreamily into the future. She took it for granted that Tom and Rhoda would marry. It seemed quite out of the question that Tom could be refused. How strange it would be to have a sister! She had so often wished for a sister. She hoped Rhoda would soon learn to love her. She thought of her quite naturally as Rhoda now, and was tremulously eager to see her again. She was sure that the girl Tom loved must be worthy of his love. And the fact that he had made her his confidante had taken all bitterness out of her heart. She was proud that he had trusted her.
“Rosie, whatever is your little head full of?” asked Pauline suddenly. She had been watching her for some moments, unable to interpret the shining, far-off look in her blue eyes.
Rose pave a start and looked hastily round. “I was thinking of Tom,” she said, feeling her colour rise.
“Tom ought to be flattered,” laughed Pauline. “I believe you had forgotten my existence. How you started when I spoke! Where were you? At Woodcote?”