“Oh yes, we were both very foolish, but we won't do it again.”
“Here you are at last. We have been looking for you everywhere,” said Miss Winter, as they came up.
“I'm sure I don't know how we missed you. We came straight from the music tent to this seat, and have not moved. We knew you must come by sooner or later.”
“But it is quite out of the way. It is quite by chance that we came round here.”
“Isn't Uncle Robert tired, Katie?” said Tom; “he doesn't look well this afternoon.”
Katie instantly turned to her father, and Mr. Winter declared himself to be much fatigued. So they wished their hospitable entertainers good-bye, and Tom hurried off and got a wheel chair for his uncle, and walked by his side to their lodgings. The young ladies walked near the chair also, accompanied by one or two of their acquaintances; in fact they could not move without an escort. But Tom never once turned his head for a glance at what was going on, and talked steadily on to his uncle, that he might not catch a stray word of what the rest were saying. Despite of all this self-denial, however, he was quite aware somehow when he made his bow at the door that Mary had been very silent all the way home.
Mr. Winter retired to his room to lie down, and his daughter and niece remained in the sitting-room. Mary sat down and untied her bonnet, but did not burst into her usual flood of comments on the events of the day. Miss Winter looked at her and said—
“You look tired, dear, and over-excited.”
“Oh yes, so I am. I've had such a quarrel with Tom.”
“A quarrel—you're not serious?”