"
"True!" said Goneril. Then, after a few minutes, "I'll get in, Aunt
Margaret, on one condition."
"In my time young people did not make conditions."
"Very well, auntie; I'll get in, and you shall answer all my questions
when you feel inclined."
The carriage stopped. The poor horse panted at his ease, while the girl
seated herself beside Miss Hamelyn. Then for a few minutes they drove on
in silence past the orchards, past the olive-yards, yellow underneath
with ripening corn; past the sudden wide views of the mountains, faintly
crimson in the midst of heat, and, on the other side, of Florence, the
towers and domes steaming beside the hazy river.
"How hot it looks down there!" cried Goneril.
"How hot it _feels_!" echoed Miss Hamelyn rather grimly.
"Yes, I am so glad you can get away at last, dear, poor old auntie."
Then, a little later. "Won't you tell me something about the old ladies
with whom you are going to leave me?"
Miss Hamelyn was mollified by Goneril's obedience.
"They are very nice old ladies, I met them at Mrs. Gorthrup's." But this
was not at all what the young girl wanted.
"Only think, Aunt Margaret," she cried impatiently, "I am to stay there
for at least six weeks, and I know nothing about them, not what age they
are, nor if they are tall or short, jolly or prim, pretty or ugly; not
even if they speak English!"
"They speak English," said Miss Hamelyn, beginning at the end.
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