"Come," he said. "In the words of the poet, 'the carriage waits.'"
They said good-night to the others, and went out. There was silence in the room until the sound of wheels had quite died away, then Rose sighed. With a swift pang, she envied Isabel's glorious youth, then the blood retreated from her heart in shame.
Madame sighed too, but for a different reason. "I suppose I shouldn't say it," she remarked, "but it's a relief to have that dear child out of the house for a little while."
"It's kind of Allison to take her," Rose answered, trying not to wish that she might change places with Isabel.
"Very kind. The Kents are singularly decent about everything. I suppose it was Allison who managed to have Romeo Crosby call upon her the other evening."
"I hardly think so. You remember that Allison hadn't seen him since he grew up."
"Shot up, you mean. How rapidly weeds grow!"
"Are the twins weeds?"
"I think so. Still, they're a wholesome and stimulating sort, even though they have done just as they pleased."
The fire died down into embers. The stillness would have been unbearable had it not been for the steady ticking of the clock. Madame leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Rose tried to read, but could not concentrate her mind upon the page.