Chapter Twenty.
A Nephew and an Aunt.
Blanche did “mind,” for she was anxious to go back to the workroom. But Mr Dunstan had been very kind, and it was not in her nature to be unyielding in small lings.
“Perhaps he has something more to tell me about, Hebe,” she thought, as she led the way out through the open glass door.
“Miss Derwent,” began Archie again, when they had strolled towards the farther end of the long strip, “the fact of the matter is—and you must forgive me if it seems impertinent—I cannot stand this.”
“What?” asked Blanche, looking up in bewilderment.
“This—this position for you,” he said. “This horrid slavery.”
“Oh,” said Blanche, somewhat coldly. “I couldn’t think what you meant. It’s very good of you, but you really needn’t trouble about it. On the whole, I think we are very fortunate indeed. Lots of people have far worse things to bear. I thought you were going to tell me something about Hebe.”