Betty and I exchanged looks. We had no idea Aunt Josephine was so rich. There were more big footmen--foreigners; very quick and quiet. The entrance-hall and stairs were wide and dim. When the front-door was shut, the house seemed as silent as a church on a week-day, and the soft-footed servants rather like the sidesmen who show strangers to their places. The very window was like a window in a church. It had stained glass in it, and black lines divided it from top to bottom, into sections, like church windows. If I had ventured to speak I should have whispered. Not even at Lord Helmstone's had we trodden on such carpets. No wonder our footsteps made no sound. Going upstairs we seemed like a procession in a picture. That was because the walls were immense mirrors separated by gilded columns. Aunt Josephine had taken off her motor-veil. She had certainly grown much thinner since she had the photograph taken. That accounted for her being a more "aquiline" aunt than we expected. Her nose curved down, especially when she smiled. And her eyes were not sleepy at all--a full yellow eye, the iris almost black. We followed her along a corridor till she threw open a door. "This is yours," she said in the voice that was both sharp and quick. I looked into the wonderful pink and white room. Instead of two little beds, as we had at home, was one very large one. It looked like an Oriental throne with rose-silk hangings. "I will send you up some tea," she said. "And you must rest. I am having a friend or two to dine. So wear your smartest gown. Come," she said to Betty. "Betty is the one who ought to rest," I said. "And so she shall," our aunt said. "I will show Betty her room." Betty looked blank. "We are not to be together?" she asked. "Together!" Aunt Josephine repeated the word with the smile that drew her nose down. "Oh, you shall have a room of your own." Betty moved a little nearer me. I explained that she and I always had the same room. "Yes, in a small house. Here there is no need." I wanted to tell her that it was not need that made us share things. But though poor Betty looked cast down, all I said was that I should come to her in plenty of time to do her hair. "A maid will do that," my aunt said. But I managed to tell her quite firmly that I must show the maid how. Aunt Josephine looked at me a moment. She doesn't like me, I thought. And I felt uncomfortable. As she followed her out, Betty made a sign over her shoulder that I was to come now. But after that look Aunt Josephine had given me, I felt I must walk warily. So I only signalled back, as much as to say "by-and-by." * * * * * A woman in a cap and apron brought me tea. I asked if she would mind taking the tray to my sister's room so we could have tea together. The woman said madam's orders were that the young ladies should rest. I reflected that Bettina would probably rest better if she did not talk, so I said no more.