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Both the children, Frederica was aware, had remarked something troubled
and serious about their uncle's manner and each had acted on this
observation in his own way. The boy, distressed and only afraid of
showing it, had bolted from the room with a panicky assumption of
indifference. The girl, though two years younger, was quite at ease in
expressing her sympathy, and conscious of how decoratively she did it.
(This was Frederica's analysis, anyhow. As is the wont of mothers, she
liked the boy better.)
"I think Miss Norris is waiting for you, my dear."
"_Oui, maman_," said Ellen dutifully.
She was supposed to talk French all the morning, but somehow this
particular observance of the regime irritated her mother a little and
she rather visibly waited while Ellen quite adequately made her
farewells to her uncle and gracefully left the room.
The tenseness of her attitude relaxed suddenly when the child was gone.
She reached out a cool soft hand and laid it on one of Rodney's that
rested limply on the table.


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