Page:Hollyhock house; a story for girls (IA hollyhockhousest00tagg).pdf/105

Rh Florimel uttered a queer cry and bolted into the house. Mary, as white as Jane, moved forward as if in a dream, and Jane followed her; Win brought up the rear. A lady got out of the carriage; neither girl saw her clearly. They received an impression of an elusive perfume, soft fabrics, a vivid, tender face, and arms encircling them in turn; while a voice, most lovely in tone and quality, as soft and hauntingly sweet as the fabrics and the fragrance, said with an English accent:

“Oh, not really! I’m going back! Not such tall, tall girls my daughters! You make an old woman of me on the instant! Where’s the other one? I know Jane by her hair; so you are Mary. And Win! Grown up—but you are older than the girls; that’s a comfort. Oh, my dears, I’m so tired! Do you think you can give me tea? I still feel that wretched boat tossing; we had a rough crossing. Have you my veil, Mr. Moulton? Ah, yes; thanks. Fancy your being so grown and so pretty, children! Thank goodness, you’re decidedly pretty, though too pale. I wonder why America bleaches its girls?”

“Our girls are as rosy as you could ask, Mrs. Garden,” Mr. Moulton came to the rescue as Mrs. Garden’s lovely voice ceased; neither Mary