Dolores, do you like to go?'
'Yes, please,' said Dolores, partly because it was at any rate gain to
escape from that charity-school lesson in the morning, and partly
because Valetta was looking at her in the ardent hope that she would
refuse the privilege of the walk, and it therefore became valuable; but
there was so little alacrity in her voice that her aunt asked her
whether she were quite rested and really liked the walk, which would be
only half a mile to the outskirts of the town.
Dolores hated personal inquiries beyond everything, and replied that
she was quite well, and didn't mind.
So soon as she and Mysie had finished, they were sent off to get ready,
while Aunt Lilias wrote her note in pencil at the corner of the table,
which she never left, while Fergus and Primrose were finishing their
meal; but she had to silence a storm at the 'didn't mind'--Gillian even
venturing to ask how she could send one to whom it was evidently no
pleasure to go. 'I think she likes it more than she shows,' said the
mother, 'and she wants air, and will settle to her lessons the better
for it. What's that, Val?'
'It was my turn, mamma,' said Valetta, in an injured voice.
'It will be your turn next, Val,' said her mother, cheerfully.
'Dolores comes between you and Mysie, so she must take her place
accordingly. And today we grant her the privilege of the new-comer.'
Dolores would have esteemed the privilege more, if, while she was going
upstairs to put on her hat, the recollection had not occurred to her of
one of the victim's of an aunt's cruelty who was always made to run on
errands while her favoured cousins were at their studies.
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