"You don't think it is about her will, do you?" she said, in a hushed
tone.

Tom gave her a look of strong disgust. "I don't think anything about it.
But she isn't fit to go by herself. Get her to take Maitland, if she won't
take one of us. She was looking quite ill this evening, didn't you notice?
I wouldn't stay away a week, Rosie, if I were you. She misses you
dreadfully if you are away only a day."

"But it is so dull here, doing nothing day after day but wait on Aunt
Lucy, and pick the flowers, and look after the old people in the village,"
said Rose, moved to a sudden burst of confidence. "It's different for you,
Tom. You have your shooting and fishing, and the estate to look after, and
all the rest of it. But I'm at home all day"--

"That's where a girl ought to be, my dear," returned Tom good-humouredly.
"I'm not going to pity you. If you are dull, it's your own fault. Laura
isn't dull."

"I don't suppose an oyster is dull," was Rose's disdainful retort. "But
it's no good to talk to you, Tom."

"I don't say Laura is as clever as you, my dear," returned Tom, with
undiminished good humour. "But it is no good grumbling about your lot.
Aunt Lucy couldn't do without you, and you wouldn't leave her if you
could. So what's the use of talking? And as to your being dull, I don't
believe it. You only imagine you are. That's where your cleverness comes
in, you see. We stupid people aren't ashamed to be contented."

Rose could not help laughing at this, though she felt very cross. But she