"Are you not going with us, Mrs. Vavasour?" asked Frances. "I thought I heard you say you would."
Amy glanced at her husband. Would he, too, ask her? No; he stood quietly on the hearthrug, apparently indifferent as to her reply.
"Thank you; I am rather busy this morning."
"Busy? What can you find to do?"
"I and Bertie are going for a walk."
"Ah! I thought Bertie had a great deal to do with it. How fond you are of Bertie," and she laid an uncomfortable stress on the name as each time it passed her lips.
Robert spoke at last. "Bertie is Mrs. Vavasour's loadstar," he said, quietly.
Amy felt this to be unjust; not so would her husband have spoken to her a month ago.
"My heart is large enough to hold more than the love for my boy," she replied.
"I expect he holds by far the largest share of it," said Frances.