"A trunk?" said Mrs. Purcell, knitting her brows again into the scowl which had greeted Rotha at the first. A very black scowl the latter thought it.
"Yes, my trunk. It's a little one. Not much for anybody to carry."
"Whatever did you want of a trunk?"
"Why, to hold my things," said Rotha quietly.
"Are you goin' to stay all summer?"
"I hope not; but I do not know how long. My aunt is going on a journey; I must stay till she comes back."
"Why didn't she let you go along?"
"I suppose it was not convenient."
A grunt from Mrs. Purcell. "Rich folks only thinks what's convenient for their own selves!"
"But she will pay you for your trouble."