Rose’s pretty face clouded over. “But I am going to stay with Pauline next week. And I wish people wouldn’t ask Laura to sing in public. She can’t sing.” “It’s a pleasure to listen to her, though,” returned Tom sturdily. “We aren’t all as critical as you, Rosie; and our Parish Room isn’t the Albert Hall. You had much better go to Broadhurst than to Chelsea. Miss Smythe and Miss Desborough live in two cupboards up among the clouds, don’t they?” “It isn’t quite as bad as that, my dear,” broke in Miss Merivale, as she saw Rose’s vexed expression. “I promised that Rose should stay with them for a day or two. I thought that if you went up to Joachim’s concert you might leave Rose behind, and fetch her next day.” “But, Aunt Lucy, Pauline said a week!” exclaimed Rose in dismay. “We could do nothing in a day. And we want to do so much. Time always flies so fast in London. One _lives_ there.” “We only vegetate here, eh, Rosie?” said Tom in a tone of good-humoured banter. “Was Wordsworth a vegetable too? He lived in the country, you know.” But Rose refused to answer this. “Aunt Lucy, I may stay longer than a day, may I not?” “Yes, dear, of course. Don’t mind Tom’s teasing. I must go up to town again to-morrow, I find, and I will call at Cadogan Mansions and see Miss Smythe for you. And I can get your seeds, Tom.” Both Rose and Tom stared in surprise at this. “Aunt Lucy, you will tire yourself out if you go off shopping again to-morrow,” exclaimed Tom. “Can’t I go for you?” “No; I must go, my dear. I shall go by train, I think. You shall drive me to the station, and I can take a hansom at Victoria. No, you must not come with me, Tom. I want to see Mr. Thomson.” “You won’t be able to find your way to Lincoln’s Inn by yourself,” said Tom teasingly. “We can’t let her go alone, can we, Rose?” “Don’t be such foolish children,” returned Miss Merivale, getting up from the table. “I have a matter of business to talk over with Mr. Thomson, Tom. And I would rather go alone, please.” She spoke with such unwonted decision Tom could say no more. But he was both hurt and surprised. Miss Merivale was accustomed to ask his opinion on every business matter. He practically managed the estate for her. It seemed very strange to him that she should be so bent on going to see Mr. Thomson alone. He felt as if he must have proved himself in some way unworthy of her confidence. Miss Merivale saw that he was hurt, though he tried his best to hide it. But it was impossible for her to explain. She had determined to be silent till she had seen Rhoda Sampson and found out who she was. Rose was as much surprised as Tom at her aunt’s determination to go alone to London next day. She talked of it to Tom in the drawing-room when Miss Merivale had gone up to her room. “You don’t think it is about her will, do you?” she said, in a hushed tone.