"But who will tell her?"
"I will. I promised she wouldn't have to see you. It was the only way I could get her back from Chicago."
She scowled at him in silence, measuring his determination against her own.
"Very well," she said at last. "Since you are in such high favor, go and tell her that she can come home, and nothing more will be said about it. I suppose there's nothing else to do under the circumstances. But I'll teach her a lesson later!"
Quin balanced the paper-knife carefully on one finger.
"I don't think you quite understand," he said. "She isn't coming home. She still says she is going to marry Mr. Phipps. He will probably get her telegram when he goes to the hotel, and when she doesn't turn up in Chicago he will take the first train down here. That's the way I've figured it out."
"And do you think I am going to sit here, and do nothing while all this is taking place?"
"No; that's what I been driving at all along. I want you and Miss Nell to come to some compromise before he gets here."
"What sort of compromise? Haven't I swallowed my pride and promised to say nothing if she comes back? Does she want me to get down on my knees and apologize?"
"No. That's the trouble. She don't want you to do anything. All she is thinking about is getting married and going to New York."