Florence put away her books, and stroked Aunt Anne’s shoulder as she passed.
“We will do our work in the morning,” she said.
“Yes, my darling, in the morning. In the afternoon I may possibly have an engagement.”
Florence longed to ask where, but a certain stiffness in Aunt Anne’s manner made it impossible.
“Have you any news from London?” she ventured to inquire, for she was longing to know about Sir William Rammage.
“No, my love, I have no news from London,” Mrs. Baines answered, and she evidently meant to say no more.
In the morning much time was taken up with the arrival of the donkey-cart and the delight of the children. A great basket of apples was inside the cart, and on the top was a little note explaining that they were from Mrs. Burnett’s garden, and she hoped the children might like them. Aunt Anne was as much pleased with the donkey as the rest of the party.
“There is a rusticity in the appearance of a donkey,” she explained, “that always gives me a sense of being really in the country.”
“Not when you meet him in London, I fear,” Florence said.