'I heard something a good while ago from Honor Falmouth; don't you remember?' said Jacinth. 'And last week she told me more, only she said they didn't want any fuss made about it. She heard it from friends. But Frances, do try and cheer up. You've been as kind—at least as affectionate—as you could be to the Harpers. We hadn't it in our power to ask them here or anything like that. I'm sure you tried to get Aunt Alison to ask them, over and over again. And you won't do them any good by crying about their troubles, you know, dear. Perhaps they may come back to school some time or other, even if they're away next term.'
'Thank you, dear Jass,' said Frances, wiping her eyes. 'You're very kind. I'll try and not be dull.'
She would perhaps have been less grateful for Jacinth's sympathy had she understood the relief it was to her sister, notwithstanding her genuine pity for them, to know that the Harpers were not likely to be associated with them any more. Their presence at Ivy Lodge, ever since the acquaintance with Lady Myrtle—more especially since Jacinth herself had become fully informed as to the whole history—had been a perpetual irritation and almost a reproach to her. And the pertinacity with which she repeated to herself that it was not her business to take up the cudgels in the Harpers' behalf, of itself suggested a weak point somewhere—a touch of the self-excusing which tries to whiten over the unacknowledged self-blame.
Now, Jacinth could afford to let herself feel sorry for Bessie and Margaret and their family—could even picture to herself ways in which some day, in some vague future, she and Frances might show kindness to their former school-fellows.
'If I were rich,' thought Jacinth, 'they're just the sort of people I'd love to be good to; of course one would have to do it very carefully, so as not to offend them.'
Frances was still looking somewhat lugubrious when the door opened and Miss Mildmay senior came in. It was not very often that their aunt paid the girls a visit in their own little sitting-room, and they both looked up with some curiosity.
'I had a letter from Lady Myrtle this morning,' she said. 'I did not want to speak about it before Eugene'—for Eugene had lately been promoted to breakfast down-stairs—'as I was not sure what you and Frances would wish about it. It is an invitation for you all—Eugene too—to spend Christmas at Robin Redbreast. Christmas time, I should say. Lady Myrtle invites you all three for a week, and Jacinth for a fortnight. What do you say?'
Frances said nothing, but Jacinth looked up quickly.
'I think it would be unnatural for us all to go away from you for Christmas, Aunt Alison,' she said.
Miss Mildmay smiled.