odd ideas
Katharine had, and how she allowed the children to run wild, and
associate with the villagers, he would regret his choice--but it was no
affair of hers. Nevertheless, it always gave her a sense of injury to
see Dennis and Maisie with their Aunt Katharine. It was not that she
envied her the charge of them, for she was, or fancied she was, somewhat
of an invalid, and would have disliked the trouble. But she felt she
had been slighted when the children were sent to Fieldside, and a slight
was a thing she could not forget.

Mrs Trevor received her visitors this morning in her boudoir, and rose
to greet them languidly from her low chair--a tall elegant figure, in
soft clinging robes. The room was full of the heavy scent of hyacinths,
and warm with the spring sunshine and a bright fire. As Aunt Katharine
entered with her usual alert step, she seemed to bring a great deal of
cold air and life into it from the outside world. The children followed
her rather shyly.

"Here we are, you see," she said, in her loud, cheerful voice. "How are
you, Helen? You look rather white."

"I am suffering from my old enemy to-day," replied Mrs Trevor, with a
forced smile; "my head is very painful."

"Ah," said Aunt Katharine, pulling off her gloves briskly, "a little
fresh air is the best cure for that. To be shut up in this warm room
with all those flowers is enough to poison you. Wouldn't you like a
window open?"

"Pray, Katharine!" exclaimed Mrs Trevor, putting up her hand with a
shudder; "the very idea destroys me. It is an east wind. Warmth and
rest are the only cure." She put up her double eye-glasses, and looked
at Dennis and Maisie. "Did you drive over? How are the children?"

"As jolly as possible," said Aunt Katharine. She stood on the
hearthrug, flapping her gloves against one hand. Maisie always thought
that her aunt wore shorter skirts, rougher tweed dresses, and stouter
boots when she came to Haughton, than at any other time. Also, she
seemed to speak louder, and to look rosier and broader altogether.
Perhaps this only seemed to be so, because Aunt Trevor's skin was so
fair, and her voice so gentle, and because she wore such graceful soft
gowns, and such tiny satin slippers. Maisie was very fond of Aunt
Katharine, but she admired Aunt Trevor's appearance immensely, and
always gazed at her as though she were a picture hanging on the wall.
Dennis did not share in this. He fidgeted about in his ch