Lottie colored. "Well, you see, she has many expenses, and is not exactly what you call rich. Mr. Willmot left most of his money to Averil. I have heard that there was some mistake. He thought aunt had plenty of money when he married her. And uncle certainly left her a good income. But it seems as though it has dwindled somehow. Rodney costs her a good deal, and Maud and Georgina are extravagant. Perhaps I ought not to tell you all this, but I do not wish you to be hard on them." For Lottie was too generous to blame her relatives. In her heart she knew she owed them little gratitude; that her services fully repaid them for the scanty maintenance—that was all they had given her. It was Averil whose roof sheltered her, who was in reality her benefactor.
Annette read the girl's generous reticence aright. She said no more on that subject; but she recurred regretfully to Lottie's speech about her cousin's uncongenial life.
"I do not understand you," she said, wistfully. "Is it that monsieur was right and that my cousin would prefer to live alone? So many people must be trying, if one loves quiet. But it seems to me as if she could at all times seclude herself in her own room."
"My dear Annette, you forget that Averil is mistress of the house. It would never do to shut herself up in her own apartments. Maud would get the upper hand in a moment. And if Averil were not firm—if she did not hold the reins—Redfern House would be a very different place from what it is. The girls are always teasing her to have dinner-parties. They want to fill the house; but Averil does so dislike a crowd. She is dreading Tuesday, I know."
"But what is to happen on Tuesday?"
"Oh, only one of those stupid, senseless 'At Homes.' A lot of people will come and eat ices and strawberries. There will be music that no one will hear, and a professional is going to sing. Poor, dear Averil, she will be as miserable as possible; and next day she will be ill, and have one of her nervous headaches. But they have teased her into sending out about two hundred invitations, and so she must go through with it."
"But it is too bad. Monsieur, who is her good friend, should protect her."
"Monsieur!" and Lottie looked mystified. Then a light broke on her. "Do you mean Mr. Harland, Annette?"
"Yes. But I think I must always call him monsieur," returned Annette, softly. "He was so good to me. When I saw his gray hair and pleasant face I thought it was my cousin Leonard. Picture to yourself my delight in having a friendly hand held out to me. Oh, he was so kind, so fatherly! I have called him monsieur always to myself."
"I wonder what these two young workwomen are chattering so busily about?" asked a quiet voice at this moment, and Averil smiled at them from the threshold. "So the mutual improvement society has begun, eh, Lottie?" as the girls greeted her with delight. "Annette, how fast you work! Why, that dress is nearly done!"