Miss Sampson is going to darn for me. She's the cleverest young lady with
her needle I ever came across, and that anxious to be useful."

"Then you like her?" asked Rose. She could not help a certain stiffness
getting into her voice when she mentioned Rhoda, though she was ready to
laugh at herself for being jealous of her aunt's companion.

"Nobody could help liking her, Miss Rosie. It's just like having a bit o'
sunshine in the house. The mistress would ha' missed you bad enough if she
hadn't had Miss Sampson to cheer her up. But nobody could feel lonely with
her about. And it's wonderful what she knows about a garden."

"Do they have gardens in Australia?" asked Rose. It was the sort of remark
Pauline might have made. But Rose was feeling very cross.

Wilmot did not notice the spitefulness in her voice. "They seem to have
lovely gardens out there, my dearie. Miss Sampson was telling me of the
different flowering trees they've got when she was in the kitchen on
Tuesday. I'd promised to show her how to make those drop cakes you're so
fond of, Miss Rosie. But I'll go and see about your tea. I wish you'd come
this morning. The mistress was saying only yesterday that she was longing
to see you."

Rose went up to her room while tea was being made ready for her. It was
all in perfect order, as if ready for her to take possession of it at any
moment. There was even a vase of fresh primroses on the little table by
the window. The room that had been prepared for Rhoda was next to it. The
door stood partly open, and Rose could not forbear taking one look. It was
only one look. She hurried on, feeling ashamed of her curiosity. But she
got an impression of exquisite neatness and freshness, and by some odd