"I do not know, madame."
Rotha felt the movings within her of a little rebellion, a little irritation, and a great nervous inclination to laugh; nevertheless her manner was sobriety itself.
"My dear, I seem to be the only one in the world to take care of you; and that is my excuse for being so impertinent as to ask these questions. You will bear with me? I must take care of you, Rotha!"
"Thank you, dear Mrs. Mowbray! There can be no questions you might not ask me."
"I am a little troubled about you, my dear child. This is very sudden."
"Yes, ma'am," said Rotha slowly,—"I suppose it is."
"And I do not like such things to be done hurriedly."
"No."
"People ought to have time to know their own minds."
"Yes."