“Why should it be?” asked Tom in a surprised tone. “She has often driven as far as that. She seemed to enjoy it. She is certainly stronger, Rosie. But you will see on Saturday. You look rather pale. Come out with me. If you’ll ask me to lunch, I can stay.” Rose hesitated. “I don’t think you would like Mrs. Richards’ cooking, Tom. I would rather you wouldn’t stay.” “You inhospitable sister! Well, I’ll ask you to lunch with me. Run and put your hat on and let us go out. It is a glorious morning.” He watched her rather impatiently as she got the case and began to put her violin away. He was anxious to get her out into the open air. It distressed him to see how pale she was. And he had an uneasy feeling that he had been neglecting his little sister lately. For days he had hardly thought of her. “You aren’t practising too hard, I hope, Rosie?” he said kindly. “You mustn’t overdo it, you know.” “Oh, I don’t practise too much,” Rose returned. She did not tell him that she found it impossible to practise except when Pauline was out. Pauline’s neuralgia came on directly she began to play. “And how does Miss Sampson suit, Tom? I hope she looks after Aunt Lucy properly?” Tom flushed up. “You will see for yourself on Saturday, Rosie. Aunt Lucy is very fond of her.” “Yes, Wilmot told me that.” Tom gave his sister a hasty glance, was on the point of saying something, but checked himself. And there was a moment’s silence before he spoke. “I wish you had not settled to stay here till June, Rosie. We want you at home.” It was in a choked voice Rose answered him. “I don’t believe you do want me. Aunt Lucy has got Miss Sampson. She doesn’t want me.” Tom again paused a moment before he spoke. Each time Rose mentioned Rhoda in that slighting tone it roused his anger against her. But he told himself that Rose did not know Rhoda yet, and he must wait till they had seen something of each other before he could expect Rose’s sympathy. He spoke very calmly and reasonably after the pause. “Did you wish Aunt Lucy to be miserable while you were away, Rose? It was your own wish to go. Surely you ought to be glad that she has found someone to fill your place.” He felt he had said the wrong thing before Rose turned on him, her eyes flashing. “How could Miss Sampson, a stranger, fill my place? Tom, you are horrid!” “Not at all,” he said stoutly, bent on defending the position he had taken up. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rosie; but look at the thing reasonably. Remember that you told me you were bored to death at home, that you would give anything to live in London all the year round. I didn’t believe you. But suppose you had really wanted it? You couldn’t have expected to keep your place at home and yet have the freedom of a life like this. If a girl gives up her home duties, she must take the consequences.”