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Page 16
"Not much to die of," Isabel suggested, practically.
"Ah, but you don't know," he answered, shaking his head.
Francesca had leaned forward and was speaking to Colonel Kent in a low
tone. "I think that somewhere, in the House not Made with Hands, there
is a young and lovely mother who is very proud of her boy to-night."
The Colonel's fine face took on an unwonted tenderness. "I hope so. She
left me a sacred trust."
Francesca crossed the room, drew the young man's tall head down, and
kissed him. "Well done, dear foster-child. Your adopted mother, once
removed, is fully satisfied with you, and very much pleased with
herself, being, vicariously, the parent of a great artist."
"I hope you don't consider me 'raised,'" replied Allison. "You're not
going to stop 'mothering' me, are you?"
"I couldn't," was her smiling assurance. "I've got the habit."
He seemed very young as he looked down at her. Woman-like she loved him,
through the man that he was, for the child that he had been.
"Come, lad," the Colonel suggested, "it's getting late and we want to be
invited again."
Allison closed his violin case with a snap, said good-night to Aunt
Francesca, then went over to Rose. "I don't feel like calling you 'Miss
Bernard," he said. "Mayn't I say 'Cousin Rose,' as we rejoice in the
possession of the same Aunt?"
"Surely," she answered, colouring faintly.
"Then good-night, Cousin Rose. I'll see you soon again, and we'll begin
work. Your days of leisure are over now."
Isabel offered him a small, cool hand. Her eyes were brilliant, brought
out by the sparkling silver of her gown. She glittered even in the low
light of the room. "Good-night, Silver Girl," he said. "You haven't
really grown up after all."
When the door closed, Rose gathered up the music he had forgotten, and
put it away. Isabel came to her contritely. "Cousin Rose, I'm so sorry I
said that! I didn't think!"
"Don't bother about it," Rose replied, kindly. "It was nothing at all,
and, besides, it's true."
"'Tell the truth and shame the--family,'" misquoted Madame Bernard. "Age
and false hair are not things to be flaunted, Isabel, remember that."
Isabel flushed at the rebuke, and her cheeks were still burning when she
went to her room.
"I don't care," she said to herself, with a swift change of mood. "I'm
glad I told him. They'd never have done it, and it's just as well for
him to know."
Madame Bernard and Rose soon followed her example, but Rose could not
sleep. Through the night the voice of the violin sounded through her
consciousness, calling, calling, calling--heedless of the answer that
thrilled her to the depths of her soul.
IV
THE CROSBY TWINS
The Crosby twins were making a formal call upon Isabel. They had been
skating and still carried their skates, but Juliet wore white gloves and
had pinned her unruly hair into some semblance of order while they
waited at the door. She wore a red tam-o'-shanter on her brown curls and
a white sweater under her dark green skating costume, which was short
enough to show the heavy little boots, just now filling the room with
the unpleasant odour of damp leather.
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