But Annette interrupted her in quick alarm. "Have I done wrong? I am so sorry. It is your house, and I ought to have left it to you."
"Well, another time; but, of course, in this case it does not matter; the Harlands are like my own brothers and sisters. Frank comes as often as he likes."
"But I am sorry, all the same," returned Annette, gravely, and a distressed color came to her face. "It seems I have been bold. My cousin, will you explain? I do not know the rules, and I would not willingly offend. Mr. Harland was so kind; he proposed to teach me, and I thought there could be no harm."
"My dear," replied Averil, kissing her hot cheek remorsefully, "there is nothing wrong. If Frank came every day he would be welcome; it is only a hint for your future use."
But Annette was sensitive; her innate sense of propriety had taken alarm; she had been forward, or her cousin would not have given her this reproof.
"You shall not have to find fault with me again," she said, humbly. "I will remember the difference between old men and young men for the future, my cousin."
CHAPTER XVIII.
"I HEAR THAT WE HAVE TO CONGRATULATE YOU."
A few more weeks passed. The summer days flew merrily by for Annette and Lottie; and if, as time went on, Averil's hidden anxieties and secret watchfulness did not relax, and a growing fear pressed more heavily upon her, she made neither of the girls her confidante. With that innate unselfishness that belonged to her nature, she refused to burden their youthful spirits with the shadow of coming trouble. But on those summer nights, when the moonlight was stealing into each sleeper's room, its pure white beams would often fall on one small, kneeling figure; for in those days Averil prayed for Rodney as one would pray for some unwary traveler hovering on the edge of a perilous abyss.