"Oh! no, thanks, dear Miss Carew, don't go up all those horrid steep steps. Do rest and entertain me a little. I am sure you feel these hot days terribly."
"I find it very cool and quiet here," said Miss Carew, a little sadly.
"I'm afraid it's lonely," cried Adela.
"Well! I oughtn't to grumble about that."
"No, you never do grumble, I know; but I feel sometimes that you must be tired and anxious, placed, as you are, as the only thing instead of a mother to poor, dear Molly!"
The fierce, quick envy betrayed in that "poor, dear Molly" did not reach Miss Carew's brain, and a little sympathy was very soothing.
"Now, could any fortune stand this sort of thing?" asked Adela.
The companion shook her head sadly, but would not speak.
"You know that she has bought Sir Edmund Grosse's old yacht? And that she is taking one of the best deer forests in the Highlands? And is it true that she is thinking of buying Portlands?"
"Oh, yes!" sighed Miss Carew. "There is some new scheme every day."