'Some time I may,' said Nan evasively. 'Afterwards, perhaps.'
'When you come to Kingscourt,' said Madge, with a curious kind of laugh.
Nan was silent, and turned away; she never seemed to wish to speak of
Kingscourt or her going there.
Frank King's stay in London was prolonged for some reason or other; at length he announced his intention of returning to Brighton on a particular Thursday. On the Tuesday night Nan and Madge arranged that they would get fresh flowers the next day for the decoration of the rooms.
'And this is what I will do for you, Madge, as it is a special occasion,' remarked Miss Anne, with grave patronage. 'If you will get up early tomorrow, I will take you to a place, not more than four miles off, where you will find any quantity of hart's-tongue fern. It is a deep ditch, I suppose a quarter of a mile long, and the banks are covered. Of course I don't want any one to know, for it is so near Brighton it would be harried for the shops; but I will show you the place, as you will soon be going away now; and we can take a basket.'
'But how did you find it out, Nan?'
'Some one showed it to me.'
'The singing-woman, I suppose?'
'Yes. Think of that. I believe she could get twopence a root; and she might fill a cart there. But she won't touch one.'
'No,' said Edith, with a superior smile. 'She leaves that for young ladies who could very well afford to go to a florist's.'