But there was no conversation on the subject until they were at home. Then Mrs. Filmer, in her dressing-gown and slippers, went to Rose's room to receive her confidence. The girl was sitting half-undressed before the fire, with a soft, happy expression on her face. She sighed and smiled when her mother entered, and then began to uncoil her hair, and to spread it loose over the back of the chair on which she sat. "It is too long, Rose," said Mrs. Filmer, passing the shining locks through her fingers. "You ought to have it cut a little." "So many things ought to be done that are neglected. You came to hear about Yanna, eh, mamma?" "What did Mr. Van Hoosen say?" "Yanna and he are both staying with their cousin, Miss Alida Van Hoosen--you know papa sold her some land in Woodsome last summer. Miss Van Hoosen has rented the Zabriski house, with all its belongings, servants, carriages, opera box, etc." "Now I begin to understand. This Miss Van Hoosen and Madame Zabriski have been friends since their school days. They are together every winter; and every one thinks it necessary to speak of their 'lovely friendship,' and so on. And so she is a relative of the girl you know? Why did you not tell me this before?" "They are only cousins--distant cousins--and Yanna never said much about her. We often passed her house when we were driving; and if we saw her at the window, or in the garden, we bowed to her. She appeared to be a very good-tempered old lady, and she must be so, for she has invited Yanna and her brother to stay with her until Easter." "Well! Wonders never cease! It may, however, be a good thing for you, Rose. This lady must know many of the Zabriski set; and she will doubtless give some entertainments to her cousins. And somehow you are not popular with our own acquaintances, so that it would be a little triumph for you to step up from among them. I should go and see your friend in the morning." "I intend to do so. I promised her brother I would be there early. He said he was sure that Yanna had written to me." Then she rose, laid down the hairpins she had been idly fingering, and going to a closet, took out of it a bottle and a small wine glass. Mrs. Filmer instantly arrested her hand. "What are you doing, Rose?" she asked, angrily. "You took enough wine before coming upstairs. Do you know that Harry said to me yesterday, 'Rose takes too much wine for a young girl; she will spoil her complexion.'" "Tell Harry to mind his own complexion. I really have a pain--an indigestion, mamma. I always suffer from it when I eat a lobster salad, and I foolishly ate one to-night. I am only going to take a teaspoonful as medicine." "Why, Rose! My God! Rose, it is brandy! Give the bottle to me at once! What do you mean? Are you mad?" "Not at all. I am only tired to death, and not well."