“We shall have to carry them,” she said. “No porters or taxicabs here, my dear. Come along.”
She grabbed her own, and Esther followed her out into the road.
It was cold but sunny, and the fresh air of the country 200 was something quite different from the chilly, damp atmosphere they had left behind in London.
Esther drew a deep breath.
“It’s lovely,” she said. “Do you know”––she looked ahead of her down the winding road with a little frown––“I’ve got the sort of feeling that something is going to happen to me here.”
“Goodness!” said June. “Don’t you start having instincts too! It’s bad enough for me to have them. What can happen to you, pray, unless you get melancholia or something?”
Esther laughed.
It was only a little way into the village; as soon as they came in sight of it June pointed excitedly to a red gabled house just visible through the trees.
“That’s where my aunt lives. She’s an old maid, you know, and incidentally she thinks I’m a most heaven-born genius. She’s nearly sixty, but I’ll bet anything you like she uses June Mason’s Skin Beautifier.”
She paused to open the iron gate of the little garden, but before there was time to ring the bell the door opened and a little lady with grey hair and a wonderful complexion very much like June’s stood there with outstretched hands.