It was taken, by the rather tense little circle gathered around her, as
a compliment; exactly as, no doubt, Greville intended it to be taken.
But her look flashed out beyond the confines of the circle and
encountered a pair of big luminous eyes, under brows that had a
perplexed pucker in them. Whereupon she laughed straight into Rose's
face and said, lifting her head a little, but not her voice:
"Come here, my child, and tell me who you are and why you were looking
at me like that."
Rose flushed, smiled that irresistible wide smile of hers, and came, not
frightened a bit, nor, exactly, embarrassed; certainly not into
pretending she was not surprised, and a little breathlessly at a loss
what to say.
"I'm Rose Aldrich." She didn't, in words, say, "I'm just Rose Aldrich."
It was the little bend in her voice that carried that impression. "And I
suppose I was--looking that way, because I was wishing I knew exactly
what you meant by what you said."
Greville's eyes, somehow, concentrated and intensified their gaze upon
the flushed young face; took a sort of plunge, so it seemed to Rose, to
the very depths of her own.
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