“Aunt Lucy is sure that she must be related to Cousin Lydia’s husband. It is natural that she should take a great interest in her. She is coming down again next week to stay for a day or two. Aunt Lucy told me this morning that she meant to ask her. I am sure you will like her, Rosie.” Tom spoke without looking at his sister, and hurried forward to open the gate of the stable yard for her without waiting to get an answer. But Rose had no answer ready. The tone in which Tom had spoken took her breath away. He seemed to think it was a matter of importance whether she liked Miss Sampson or not. When they got back to the house, Tom went off to his own den, and when Rose entered the drawing-room she found Pauline alone. The latter ran towards her and caught her by both hands. Her eyes were sparkling joyfully. “My Rose, I have delightful news for you. Now, confess that I am the cleverest person in the world! I have made your aunt as anxious as you are about your music. She wants you to spend two months with me in London. Two whole long, lovely months! Think of it, Rosamunda mia! And you can come next week. It is far, far more than I ever hoped for. And, who knows, you might get an extension of leave after that. We may spend the whole summer together in the flat. Well, why don’t you say something? Aren’t you pleased?” “But, Pauline, I can’t go. Aunt Lucy couldn’t do without me. I”-- “My dear, she wants you to go,” returned Pauline impatiently. “Go up and speak to her, and you will find it is so. Miss Sampson is to come here as her companion. She isn’t the person I should choose for a companion, but _chacun à son goût_.” “Did you suggest that she should come here?” asked Rose. “Oh, Pauline, don’t look at me like that! It is so sudden. And Aunt Lucy can’t bear strangers. I don’t think it is a good plan at all.” Pauline dropped her hands with one look, and turned away. Her lips were quivering; her face had the stricken look of one who has received a cruel blow. She did not speak, but Rose was full of remorse instantly. “Oh, Pauline, you know I want to come to you. It would be too lovely. But it is so sudden. I can’t believe Aunt Lucy would like to have Miss Sampson with her.” “You had better speak to your aunt,” returned Pauline in an icy voice. “I wash my hands of the matter altogether. I did my best for you; but I see I was mistaken in thinking that you really cared about our being together. It does not matter I can give up the flat and go back to Mrs. Jephson’s.” “Pauline, don’t speak like that,” begged Rose, with tears in her eyes. “You know how I love being with you. If I could be certain Aunt Lucy would not fret for me, I should be only too delighted to get away. I never feel more than half-alive here. But Miss Sampson could not do for her what I do.”