'Don't you hit it off with her, then?'
'I can't, uncle,' said Mysie, looking up, with a sudden wink now and
then to stop her tears. 'I thought we should have been such friends;
but she won't let me. I didn't mean to be stupid and disagreeable,
like the girls in 'Ashenden Schoolroom,' but she doesn't care for
anybody but Miss Constance and Maude Sefton.'
'I hope you are all very kind to her,' said Uncle Reginald, rather
wistfully.
'We try,' said Mysie, who was not going to betray Wilfred and Valetta,
and could honestly say so of herself and Gillian.
And there again came an interruption, in the shape of Gillian. 'Mysie,
mamma says we may finish up our sacred illuminated cards, for it will
be Sunday work.'
'Oh, jolly!' cried Mysie, jumping up. 'And will you give me one rub of
your real good carmine Gilly-flower, dear.'
'And of my ultramarine, too,' responded Gillian, wherewith the two
sisters disappeared, radiant with goodwill and gratitude; while poor
Uncle Reginald, who had intended to devote this wet Sunday afternoon to
writing to his brother that Dolores was perfectly happy and thriving in
Lily's care, and like a sister to his other favourite, Mysie, remained
disappointed and perplexed, wondering whether the poor little maiden
were homesick, or whether no children could be depended on for kindness
when out of sight, and deciding that he should defer his letter till he
had seen a little more, and talked to his sister Jane, who could see
through a milestone any day.
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