“Ah! he does not know that I am down!” she said to herself, complacently, as she settled back in her chair.  Cora came in and greeted Rose with ceremonious politeness, having resolved, at length, to treat Mrs. Stillwater as an honored guest, not as a cherished friend or member of the household.

“Good morning, Mrs. Stillwater.  I hope you have had a good night’s rest and feel refreshed after your journey,” she said.

Rose responded effusively: 

“Ah, good morning, dear love!  Yes; thank you, darling, a lovely night’s rest, undisturbed by the thoughts of debts and duns and a doubtful future.  I slept so deeply and sweetly through the night that I woke quite early this morning.  The birds were in full song.  You must have millions of birds here!  And the subtile, penetrating fragrance of the hyacinths came into the window as soon as I opened it.  How I love the early spring flowers that come to us almost through the winter snows and before we have done with fires.”

Cora did not reply to this rhapsody.  Then Rose inquired: 

“Does your grandfather go regularly to look after the works as he used to do?”

“Mr. Rockharrt drives to North End every day,” replied Cora.

“It is amazing, at his age,” said Rose.

“Some acute observer has said that ‘age is a movable feast.’  Age, no more than death, is a respecter of persons or of periods.  Men grow old, as they die, at any age.  Some grow old at fifty, others not before they are a hundred.  I think Mr. Rockharrt belongs to the latter class.”

“I am sure he does.”

Cora did not confirm this statement.

Rose made another venture in conversation: 

“So both the gentlemen go every day to the works?”

“Mr. Rockharrt goes every day.  Mr. Clarence usually remains there from Monday morning until Saturday evening.”

“At the works?”

“Yes; or at the hotel, where he has a suite of rooms which he occupies occasionally.”

“Dear me!  So you have been alone here all day long, every day but Sunday!  And now I have come to keep you company, darling!  You shall not feel lonely any longer.  And—­what was that Mary Queen of Scots said to her lady hostess on the night she passed at the castle in her sad progress from one prison to another: 

“’We two widows, having no husbands to trouble us, may agree very well,’ or words to that effect.  So, darling, you and I, having no husbands to trouble us, may also agree very well.  Shall we not?”

“I cannot speak so lightly on so grave a subject, Mrs. Stillwater,” said Cora.

Old Mr. Rockharrt came in.

“Good morning, Cora!  Good morning, Mrs. Stillwater!  I hope you feel quite rested from your journey.”

“Oh, quite, thank you!  And when I woke up this morning, I was so surprised and delighted to find myself safe at home!  Ah!  I beg pardon!  But I spent so many years in this dear old house, the happiest years of my life, that I always think of it as home, the only home I ever had in all my life,” said Rose, pathetically, while tears glistened in her soft blue eyes.