But Rose's face did not light up as Pauline had expected, and it was with
a very sober step that she went up to her aunt's room. She had made up her
mind to tell her aunt that she did not want to go and stay with
Pauline--that she had never really thought of leaving her. She expected to
be clasped and fondly kissed for being so ready to give up her visit; but
she found, to her hurt surprise, that Pauline had been right, and that her
aunt was bent on her going away for a time.

"It is a chance that may not happen again, Rosie," she said, tenderly
stroking her bright hair. "I have wanted you to have some really good
music lessons for a long time, and Pauline and Mrs. Metcalfe will be able
to see that you get the best. And you have been looking pale lately. You
want a change; I know it has been dull for you. And I should like to have
Rhoda here for a time. I have just been talking to Tom about it. He thinks
it an excellent plan. You would like to go next week, wouldn't you,
darling? Pauline is very anxious to have you. Before she goes away we must
settle how long you are to stay. Two months, I thought of. I can't spare
you longer than that, Rosie."

But, affectionate as these words were, and loving the kiss that
accompanied them, Rose went downstairs again with a sore heart. She was
like those who pluck Dead Sea apples, and find the fruit that looked so
fair when out of reach turning to ashes in their hands.




CHAPTER VII.

APPLES OF SODOM.