"I didn't say anything about the concert," returned Rose. "She talked
about Miss Sampson chiefly. She seems to think her perfect."

"I daresay," returned Pauline, with a yawn. "Those sort of people always
hang together. She's more of Wilmot's class than ours, you know. I wonder
what your aunt thinks of her."

"Oh, Aunt Lucy thinks her perfect too," returned Rose, no longer able to
keep her jealousy out of her voice. "And so does Tom. I don't believe they
miss me one little bit, Pauline."

"Did Wilmot tell you that?"

"No, but I am sure they don't. Little things she said made me think so."

"You silly child!" laughed Pauline. "Did you want your aunt to fret
herself to death because you weren't there to run her errands? You ought
to be glad she finds Miss Sampson so useful. She may be willing to let you
stay on with me all the summer. Wouldn't that be delightful? Why, what a
gloomy little face! Rose, I believe you are angry because I accepted
Felicie's invitation. But I am not going to leave you alone again. I must
remember you are not like Clare. You are vexed with me, now confess it."

"I see you could not help it," Rose answered wearily. "And I was glad to
go home. I shall go again on Saturday. You must come with me, Pauline."

"Don't tell your aunt that I wanted you to go to the concert alone, then,"
said Pauline, with a laugh. "She is such a dear old-fashioned thing, she
might be shocked at me. And I believe you were shocked, just a little. How
Clare would have laughed at you!"