"Yes, if you like to put it that way."

"Where's your mother?"

"Out lecturing."

"What about?"

"The Bloodless Revolution, or the Gradual Emancipation of Woman," she
repeated, parrot-like.

"Her work must keep her away from home a great deal," he ventured, after
a pause.

"Yes. I seldom see her."

"You must be lonely."

She turned her dark eyes to his. "I live in a hotel," she said.

In the simple answer, Allison saw an unmeasured loneliness, coupled with
a certain loyalty to her mother. He changed the subject.

"You like it here, don't you?"

"Yes, indeed. Aunt Francesca is lovely and so is Cousin Rose. I wish,"
she went on, with a little sigh as she glanced about the comfortable
room, "that I could always stay here." The child-like appeal in her tone
set Allison's heart to beating a little faster.