It was considered a high privilege by Pauline’s band of worshippers to be allowed to hold this miniature in their hands; but on Rose a still higher privilege had been once conferred. She had worn the miniature tied round her neck by a blue ribbon when she acted a part in the French play Miss Jephson’s pupils produced every Christmas. That was in Rose’s last year at school. She left at the end of the next term, as her aunt was in failing health and wanted her at home.
Soon Pauline left too, and after a brief experience as a private governess, commenced to give visiting lessons in London. She lived at first with a cousin of Miss Jephson’s, a clergyman’s widow; but the arrangement did not somehow prove a satisfactory one, and it was a relief to them both when Clare Desborough, whose old admiration for Pauline had revived on meeting her in London, had begged her to share the little flat her mother had consented to rent for her, while the family spent the winter in Italy.
Pauline found the freedom of a flat delightful, and looked forward with a sinking heart to the day of Lady Desborough’s return. Her only hope was that Rose might be induced to entreat her aunt to let her live in London, so that she might study music at the Royal Academy. Pauline was sure that Miss Merivale would consent, if only Rose’s pleading was urgent enough. Rose had had her own way all her life.
{Illustration: PAULINE LEANT AGAINST THE DRESSER AND WATCHED HER.}
“There, it is quite ready now,” Rose said, as she finished cutting the bread and butter. “If you will move a little, Pauline, I will carry the tray in.”
“I ought to do that,” said Pauline lazily. “What will your aunt think, Rosie? I am not treating you like a visitor, am I?”
“I wish I wasn’t a visitor,” said Rose, with a faint little sigh. “I envy Clare more than I ever envied anybody. She must be having a lovely time.” “It will soon be over, poor dear. I wish”—Pauline stopped again, and began a fresh sentence. “You and I would get on better than Clare and I do, Rose. We like the same things. She does not care a bit for music, but I can’t live without it. What delightful times we could have together, Rose! But I don’t suppose your aunt would hear of it. She is more old-fashioned in her ideas than Lady Desborough.”
Rose had clasped her hands together. “Oh, Pauline, it would be too delightful! Would you really like to have me? Aunt Lucy might let me come, though I’m afraid she could not get on without me. And there’s Tom!”
Pauline’s dark eyes grew quizzical “I didn’t know you were afraid of Tom, Rose. Doesn’t he think everything you do is right? Was there ever a little girl so spoiled by a big brother?”
“But he thinks I ought always to be at home to wait on him. You said the other day that he was selfish, Pauline.”