exchanged when it was thought she was not looking. Several times she had been asked if she were not feeling well, and her looking-glass reflected a face that was pale and drawn, with dark lines under the eyes.
One evening, when she had gone to her room directly after dinner, there was a gentle knock at her door. She opened it to find Mrs. Hamilton, looking as if it would take only a word to send her creeping away again.
"Come in, you dear little Grey Lady," cried Patricia, putting her arm affectionately round Mrs. Hamilton's small shoulders, and leading her over to a basket-chair by the window.
For some time they talked of nothing in particular. At last Mrs. Hamilton said:
"I—I hope you won't think me impertinent, my dear; but—but"
"I should never think anything you said or did impertinent," said Patricia, smiling.
"You know" began Mrs. Hamilton, and then broke off.
"Anyone would think you were thoroughly afraid of me," said Patricia with a smile.
"I don't like interfering," said Mrs. Hamilton, "but I am very worried."
She looked so pathetic in her anxiety that Patricia bent down and kissed her on the cheek.
"You dear little thing," she cried, "tell me what is on your mind, and I will do the best I can to help you."
