Rhoda’s cold, brief replies checked Pauline. She did not find it so easy to pump Rhoda as she had expected. She put the photograph down, and got up with a yawn. “I am keeping you up,” she said. “May I have the matches? Thank you. Good-night.” She gave Rhoda one of her most charming smiles as she spoke; but Rhoda’s good-night was studiously cold. She had no desire to accept the olive branch Pauline was holding out to her.
CHAPTER X. A CONFESSION.
The more Pauline thought of it the more she felt convinced that she had solved the mystery of Miss Merivale’s sudden interest in Rhoda. And she spent a long time in considering what was the best use she could make of her discovery.
Her first idea had been to disclose the truth to Rhoda herself, and thus establish a claim to her gratitude. But something in Rhoda’s manner the night before made her hesitate. And she felt half inclined to believe that her best plan would be to speak to Miss Merivale and assure her that she could be trusted to keep silent.
She was still undecided when she went into the garden next morning to help Rose pick the flowers for the table.
Rhoda was already in the garden. Old Jackson, the gardener, had come to the house to seek her directly after breakfast.
“Jackson expects Rhoda to spend half the day in his company,” Miss Merivale said, with a laugh. “He won’t sow a seed without asking her opinion first. My opinions he has always laughed to scorn.”
“And mine too,” said Rose, with a merry glance at Rhoda. “He has always been a regular despot about the garden. How have you managed to subdue him, Miss Sampson?”