Rose had reckoned justly with her aunt Julia; there were no footmen,
but this vigilant virgin was posted at the foot of the stairs. She
offered no challenge however; she only said: "There's some one in
the parlour who wants to see you." The girl demanded a name, but
Miss Tramore only mouthed inaudibly and winked and waved. Rose
instantly reflected that there was only one man in the world her aunt
would look such deep things about. "Captain Jay?" her own eyes
asked, while Miss Tramore's were those of a conspirator: they were,
for a moment, the only embarrassed eyes Rose had encountered that
day. They contributed to make aunt Julia's further response evasive,
after her niece inquired if she had communicated in advance with this
visitor. Miss Tramore merely said that he had been upstairs with her
mother--hadn't she mentioned it?--and had been waiting for her. She
thought herself acute in not putting the question of the girl's
seeing him before her as a favour to him or to herself; she presented
it as a duty, and wound up with the proposition: "It's not fair to
him, it's not kind, not to let him speak to you before you go."
"What does he want to say?" Rose demanded.
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