If Rose had been pleading to be let out of prison she could not have
spoken more earnestly. Another time Miss Merivale might have been hurt,
but just then she was hardly able to attend to what Rose was saying.

"We must ask Tom about the concert," she said. "You can write to Miss
Smythe to-morrow. Would any day next week be convenient, my dear?"

"Any day," said Pauline smilingly. "But the sooner the better. Be sure and
bring your violin, Rose. I want Mrs. Metcalfe to hear you play. She is a
brilliant performer herself. We must have a musical afternoon while you
are here. Don't you think you could spare her for a week, Miss Merivale?
We shall have so much to do."

"We will see, my dear," said Miss Merivale, getting up. "A week sounds a
long time. But we will see. We must go now, Rosie. The carriage will be
waiting. You and Miss Desborough must come and see us, my dear. I am sure
even a day in the country would be good for you. Don't you pine for the
country now the spring is coming?"




CHAPTER II.

WOODCOTE.


The drive home to Woodcote was a very silent one. Miss Merivale and Rose
were both absorbed in their own thoughts, and neither of them even dimly
divined the thoughts of the other.