Rose said unexpectedly, “Oh, Henrietta, I am glad you have come back. You seem to have been away for a long time.” “I went to the Battys’ to tea and then to Sales Hall. I promised Mrs. Sales. Do you mind?” “Of course not; but I missed you.” “Oh! Oh! I never thought of that.” “I always miss you,” Rose said gravely. “You have made a great difference to us all.” Henrietta’s mouth opened with astonishment. “I had no idea. And I do nothing but enjoy myself.” Rose laughed. “That’s what we want you to do. You must be as happy as you can.” This, from Aunt Rose, was the most wonderful thing that had happened yet. Henrietta was overcome by astonishment and gratitude. “I had no idea. I never dreamt of your liking me. I thought you just put up with me.” “You haven’t given me much chance,” Rose said in a low voice, “of doing anything else.” It was true: Henrietta could not flourish when she thought herself unappreciated, but now she expanded like a flower blossoming in a night. “Oh, if we could be friends! There’s nobody to talk to except Charles Batty, and I hated, I simply hated being at Sales Hall to-night.” She tightened her lips and opened them to say, “I shan’t go there again. I said so. She is a terrible woman.” “She has a great deal to bear.” “Yes, and she counts on your remembering that,” Henrietta said acutely. “What was the matter to-night?” “Hints,” Henrietta whispered. “Hints,” and she added nervously, “about you.” Rose made a slight movement. “Don’t tell me.” “And the cat. I ran away. She was crying, but I didn’t care. I ran all down the avenue on to the road. Mr. Sales had said he would take me home, but I didn’t wait. It was much better under the sky. Then I heard footsteps, and it was Mr. Sales running after me.” She paused. Two stairs above her, Aunt Rose stood, listening with attention. She was, as usual, all black and white; her neck, rising from the black lace, looked like a bowl of cream laid out of doors to cool in the night. “He kissed me,” Henrietta said abruptly. Rose did not move, and before she spoke Henrietta had time to wonder what had prompted her to that confession. She had not thought about it, the words had simply issued of themselves. “Kissed you?” “Yes,” Henrietta said, and suddenly she wanted to make it easier for Aunt Rose. “I think he was sorry for me. I told him I was unhappy, but I couldn’t tell him why, I couldn’t say it was his wife. I think he meant it kindly.” “I am sure he did,” Rose said with admirable self-possession. “You look very young in that big hat, you are very young, and perhaps he guessed what you had been through. Don’t think about it any more.” “No.” Henrietta seemed to have no control over her tongue. “But then, you see, I hit him.” Rose managed a laugh. “Oh, Henrietta, how primitive!”