"Very well," said Mrs. Busby pleasantly; "but if you will give me the keys, I will see what I think ought to be done. I can judge better than you can."
"I would rather not," said Rotha. "If you please, and if you do not mind, ma'am, I would rather nobody went into my trunk but myself."
"Don't be a child, Rotha!"
"No, aunt Serena. I remember that I am one no longer."
"But I wish to have your keys—do you understand?"
"Perfectly; and I do not wish to give them. You understand that."
"Your wish ought to give way to mine," said Mrs. Busby severely.
"Why?" said Rotha, looking at her with a frank face.
"Because you are under my care, and I stand in the place of a mother to you."
Hot words sprang to Rotha's lips, hot and passionate words of denial; but she did not speak them; her lips opened and closed again.