Many tears had fallen on the yellow pages before she put them away, and she turned such a white, worn face to Rose as she entered, Rose felt horribly ashamed at having ever thought of sharing Pauline's flat. And the good-night embrace she gave Miss Merivale before going into the little white room that opened from her aunt's had compunction in it as well as warm affection.
"Aunt Lucy, do let Tom go with you to-morrow," she begged. "But must you go to-morrow?"
"Yes, I must, dear. And I want to go alone," Miss Merivale answered. Then she pinched Rose's cheek, trying to speak playfully. "You silly children, am I not to be trusted to go anywhere alone? I shall start early, and get back early. It is business I cannot put off, Rose. Perhaps to-morrow I shall be able to tell you all about it."
It was just before twelve o'clock next morning when Miss Merivale reached Cadogan Mansions. She told the cabman to wait, and walked slowly up the long flights of stone steps.
About half-way up, she met a girl coming down, with light springing steps, buttoning a pair of shabby dogskin gloves. Her dress was shabby too, and the little black straw hat had seen long service; but Miss Merivale only noticed her bonnie face. It brightened the dreary staircase like a gleam of sunshine.
It never struck her that this was the girl she had come to see. From Pauline's words the day before, she had pictured Rhoda Sampson as a very different sort of girl.
The flat was at the top of the high buildings, and Miss Merivale was out of breath by the time she reached the neat front door with the electric bell. She had not long to wait before her ring was answered by Mrs. Richards, a thin, careworn woman, who ushered her into the sitting-room where Miss Desborough sat at her writing-table.
She jumped up, with her pen in her hand. "Miss Merivale, what a delightful surprise! Is Rose with you? I was so sorry to miss you yesterday, but I had to go to a committee meeting. I have more work on my hands just now than I can do. Would you mind my just finishing this letter for the post? It is very important. I shall not be five minutes."
Miss Merivale, who had seen Clare running about the garden at Woodcote three summers before with her hair flying, was considerably taken aback by her extremely "grown-up" manner. She sat meekly down on the sofa and waited for the letter to be finished.