The First Violin - Jessie Fothergill - Bog

Feeling it a little hard that my coveted solitude should thus be interrupted, and not quite knowing what to say to her, I sat down and there was a moment's pause. "Is your mother well?" she inquired. "Yes, thank you, very well. She has gone with my sister to Darton." "Your father?" "He is well too, thank you. He has a funeral this afternoon." "I think you have two sisters, have you not?" "Yes; Adelaide and Stella." "And which are you?" "May; I am the second one." All her questions were put in an almost severe tone, and not as if she took very much interest in me or mine. I felt my timidity increase, and yet-I liked her. Yes, I felt most distinctly that I liked her. "May," she remarked, meditatively; "May Wedderburn.