Bruno had heard the click of the wicket gate leading to the stables before Miss Merivale spoke. So had Rhoda. She started up. “I promised Wilmot I would light the lamps, Miss Merivale, as Ann is out. We shall want them for tea.”
Miss Merivale let her go, smiling softly again to herself. “Rose and Miss Smythe have come, Tom,” she called to him, as he crossed the lawn, swinging his stick, and walking with a free, happy step.
“I’m glad of that. Where is Rosie? I’m afraid I shall not be able to see much of her to-morrow, Aunt Lucy. I must go to Croydon, after all. But I’ll get back early. How do you think Rose is looking?”
“She is pale, Tom; but she says she is very well. I don’t think she likes it as much as she expected She is anxious to come home in June.”
Tom’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, I gathered that on Tuesday. I am glad you let her go, Aunt Lucy. But there is no need for her to stay till June if she does not like it, is there? Why should she go back at all?”
“I don’t think it would be quite fair to Miss Smythe for her to leave her now, dear,” said Miss Merivale gently. “I am sure Rose would rather go back.”
Their talk was interrupted by Rose herself, who came flying across the hall at the sight of Tom, followed more slowly by Pauline. “Oh, Tom, have you come back? I drove Bob from the station. Did Aunt Lucy tell you?”
“She hasn’t had time. I have only just come in. How do you do, Miss Smythe? I hope Rose has been a good little girl since Tuesday?”
“Have you, Rose?” said Pauline, with a lazy smile.
Rose did not hear the question. She had caught sight of Rhoda entering the hall through the swing doors that led to Wilmot’s pantry, and she stepped back to speak to her. They stood talking together by the wide stone hearth, filled now with green fir boughs. Pauline noticed how Tom’s eyes kept wandering to them as he made disjointed remarks to her and his aunt, and he presently moved across the hall to join them.