To my surprise, she flushed painfully.
"I don't want to go, Aunt Ray," she said. "Don't make me leave now."
"You are losing your health and your good looks," I said decidedly.
"You should have a change."
"I shan't stir a foot." She was equally decided. Then, more lightly:
"Why, you and Liddy need me to arbitrate between you every day in the
week."
Perhaps I was growing suspicious of every one, but it seemed to me that
Gertrude's gaiety was forced and artificial. I watched her covertly
during the rest of the drive, and I did not like the two spots of
crimson in her pale cheeks. But I said nothing more about sending her
to Scotland: I knew she would not go.