“No, mother; but I do not need to see in order to feel. And I have certainly noticed how few children are on the street lately.”
“Well, Katherine, girls of eighteen shouldn’t need to see in order to feel. Thank God for thy fresh young feelings and keep them fresh as long as thou can. It will be a pity when thou begins to reason about them. Send letters to Mrs. Benson, Mrs. Craven, Lady Brierley, and Mrs. Courtney, and then we shall see what comes from them. After all, we are mere mortals!”
“But you are friendly with all these four ladies?”
“Good friends to come and go upon. By rights they ought to stand by Annis—but ‘ought’ stands for nothing.”
“Why ought, mother?”
“Thy father hes done ivery one o’ them a good turn of one kind or the other but it isn’t his way to speak of the same. Now send off thy letters and let things slide until we see what road they are going to take. I’m afraid I’ll hev to put mysen about more than I like to in this matter.”
“That goes without saying but you don’t mind it, do you, mother?”
“Well, your father took me on a sudden. I hedn’t time to think before I spoke and when my heart gets busy, good-by to my head.”
“Mrs. Courtney has not been here for a long time.”
“She is a good deal away but I saw her in London last year every now and then. She is a careless woman; she goes it blind about everything, and yet she wants to be at the bottom of all county affairs.”