Free The Affair Next Door by Anna Katherine Green

so eloquent that he did not need to shake his head.
    "But you will before the day is out?" protested Caroline.
    "It is too early yet," added Isabella.
    "I never thought I would be glad to see that woman under any
circumstances," continued the former, "but I believe now that if I saw
her coming up the street on Howard's arm, I should be happy enough to
rush out and—and—"
    "Give her a hug," finished the more impetuous Isabella.
    It was not what Caroline meant to say, but she accepted the emendation,
with just the slightest air of deprecation. They were both evidently
much attached to Howard, and ready in his trouble to forget and forgive
everything. I began to like them again.
    "Have you read the horrid papers?" and "How is papa this morning?" and
"What shall we do to save Howard?" now flew in rapid questions from
their lips; and feeling that it was but natural they should have their
little say, I sat down in my most uncomfortable chair and waited for
these first ebullitions to exhaust themselves.
    Instantly Mr. Van Burnam took them by the arm, and led them away to a
distant sofa.
    "Are you happy here?" he asked, in what he meant for a very confidential
tone. But I can hear as readily as a deaf person anything which is not
meant for my ears.
    "O she's kind enough," whispered Caroline, "but so stingy. Do take us
where we can get something to eat."
    "She puts all her money into china! Such plates!—
and so little on
them!
"
    At these expressions, uttered with all the emphasis a whisper will
allow, I just hugged myself in my quiet corner. The dear, giddy things!
But they should see, they should see.
    "I fear"—it was Mr. Van Burnam who now spoke—"I shall have to take my
sisters from under your kind care to-day. Their father needs them, and
has, I believe, already engaged rooms for them at the Plaza."
    "I am sorry," I replied, "but surely they will not leave till they have
had another meal with me. Postpone your departure, young ladies, till
after luncheon, and you will greatly oblige me. We may never meet so
agreeably again."
    They fidgeted (which I had expected), and cast secret looks of almost
comic appeal at their brother, but he pretended not to see them, being
disposed for some reason to grant my request. Taking advantage of the
momentary hesitation that ensued, I made them all three my most
conciliatory bow, and said as I retreated behind the portière:
    "I shall give my orders for luncheon now. Meanwhile, I hope the young
ladies will feel perfectly free in my house. All that I have is at their
command." And was gone before they could protest.
    When I next saw them, they were upstairs in my front room. They were
seated together in the window and looked miserable enough to have a
little diversion. Going to my closet, I brought out a band-box. It
contained my best bonnet.
    "Young ladies, what do you think of this?" I inquired, taking the bonnet
out and carefully placing it on my head.
    I myself consider it a very becoming article of headgear, but their
eyebrows went up in a scarcely complimentary fashion.
    "You don't like it?" I remarked. "Well, I think a great deal of young
girls' taste; I shall send it back to Madame More's to-morrow."
    "I don't think much of Madame More," observed Isabella, "and after
Paris—"
    "Do you like La Mole better?" I inquired, bobbing my head to and fro
before the mirror, the better to conceal my interest in the venture I
was making.
    "I don't like any of them but D'Aubigny," returned Isabella. "She
charges twice what La Mole does—"
    Twice! What are these girls' purses made of, or rather their father's!
    "But she has the
chic
we are accustomed to see in French millinery. I
shall
never
go anywhere else."
    "We were recommended to her in Paris," put in Caroline, more languidly.
Her interest was only half engaged by this frivolous topic.
    "But did you never have one of La Mole's hats?" I pursued, taking down
a hand-mirror, ostensibly to get the effect of my bonnet in the back,
but really to