outbreak against him she felt closer to him; she was prepared to
condone his sins, even to emulate them and find in him her excuse. She
looked at the portrait on the wall, she kissed her hand to it. Somehow
he seemed to be helping her.

But with all her carefully nurtured enmity, she could not deny her
admiration for Aunt Rose. She was proud to sit beside her in the
carriage which took them to Sales Hall, and on that occasion Rose
talked more than usual, telling Henrietta little stories of the people
living in the houses they passed and little anecdotes of her own
childhood connected with the fields and lanes.

Henrietta sighed suddenly. 'It must be nice,' she said, 'to be part of
a place. You can't be part of London, in lodging-houses, with no
friends. I should love to have had a tree for a friend, all my life.
It sounds silly, but it would make me feel different.' She was angry
with herself for saying this to Aunt Rose, but again she could not
help it. She saw too much with her eyes and Aunt Rose pleased them and
she assured herself that though these softened her heart and loosened
her tongue, she could resume her reserve at her leisure. 'There was a
tree, a cherry, in one of the gardens once, but we didn't stay there
long. We had to go.' She added quickly, 'It was too expensive for us.
I suppose they charged for the tree, but I did long to see it blossom;
and this spring,' she waved a hand, 'I've seen hundreds--I've seen a
squirrel--' She stopped.

'Dear little things,' Rose said. They were jogging alongside the high,
bare wall she hated, and the big trees, casting their high, wide
branches far above and beyond it, seemed to be stretching out to the
sea and the hills.