Rhoda came shyly across the hall as they entered. She had on a new brown dress that Miss Merivale had given her. It was brown cashmere, made very simply, but it was a prettier dress than Pauline had ever seen her wearing, and she stared undisguisedly at her as they shook hands. “I hardly knew you, Miss Sampson,” she said. “How very well you are looking! But you must be having quite a holiday.” The condescending tone did not appear to irritate Rhoda. She answered pleasantly; there was even a twinkle deep down in her dark eyes as she met Pauline’s glance. It was Rose who felt irritated. Now that she saw Rhoda’s face in the full light, with no hat to shade it, she recognised what a frank, sweet face it was. She did not wonder that Tom loved her, or that her aunt smiled upon his wooing. And Pauline’s assumption of superiority vexed her intensely. Miss Merivale asked Rhoda to show Pauline the room that had been prepared for her, and they went upstairs together. Rose cast an anxious glance after them. “I had better go too, Aunt Lucy.” “No, wait a moment, darling. I want to have a good look at you. Tom gave me a bad account. And you are looking pale. You are not working too hard?” “Not a bit of it,” laughed Rose. “And I am quite well. But I shall be glad when June comes, Aunt Lucy. I am beginning to count the days. But don’t tell Pauline that.” A delighted look flashed into Miss Merivale’s face. “My darling, it is so sweet to hear you say that. I was afraid you would find it dull here when you came back. I have missed you more than I could tell you.” “Really?” asked Rose half wistfully, half teasingly. “You’ve had Miss Sampson, you know, Aunt Lucy.” “I want you both,” Miss Merivale said in an eager voice. “Rose, you will try to love her, won’t you? She is so lonely. Mrs. M’Alister and her children have gone to Devonshire, and Rhoda was left behind. She has nobody but us. You won’t treat her like a stranger, will you, dearest?” Rose felt chilled and hurt by her aunt’s strange eagerness. It was all very well for Tom to speak so, but her aunt was different. Why should she plead for Rhoda like that? “You’ll see how sweet I mean to be to her, Aunt Lucy,” she said gaily; and Miss Merivale did not notice that the gaiety was forced. “I’ll go up now and send her down to you. I wonder why Pauline is keeping her.” She hastened away, and Miss Merivale sat down in the porch and put her hand on the head of Bruno, Tom’s black Newfoundland, who had come to her side with an inquiring glance in his beautiful eyes. “Your master will be home soon, Bruno,” she said. The dog wagged his tail, but still kept looking at her. She went on speaking to him. “And everything is coming right, Bruno,” she said. “I am glad I was silent. It’s all coming right. We shall all be happy together.”