"I rather want to cry
myself, and I am stronger than she is. I am immensely strong."
"Yes! Yes!" said Lady Anstruthers, wiping her eyes, and making a
tremendous effort at self-respecting composure. "You are strong. I have
grown so weak in--well, in every way. Betty, I'm afraid this is a poor
welcome. You see--I'm afraid you'll find it all so different from--from
New York."
"I wanted to find it different," said Betty.
"But--but--I mean--you know----" Lady Anstruthers turned helplessly to
the boy. Bettina was struck with the painful truth that she looked even
silly as she turned to him. "Ughtred--tell her," she ended, and hung her
head.
Ughtred had got down at once from his seat and limped forward. His
unprepossessing face looked as if he pulled his childishness together
with an unchildish effort.
"She means," he said, in his awkward way, "that she doesn't know how
to make you comfortable. The rooms are all so shabby--everything is so
shabby. Perhaps you won't stay when you see."
Bettina perceptibly increased the firmness of her hold on her sister's
body. It was as if she drew it nearer to her side in a kind of taking
possession. She knew that the moment had come when she might go this
far, at least, without expressing alarming things.
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