“Get up from there,” Mrs. Dodge said, fiercely. “Be quiet! Do you want the servants to hear you?”
“What do I care who hears me? You drove him! You drove him, Mamma! You did! You drove him!”
IX
MRS. DODGE’S HUSBAND
“SPIRITUAL Life and the New Generation” lay meekly upon Mrs. Dodge’s desk for all the rest of that day, and nothing was added to it. Late in the afternoon Lily consented to take a little beef tea and toast in her room; but she was still uttering intermittent gurgles, like sobs too exhausted for a fuller expression, when her mother brought her tray to her—or perhaps Lily merely renewed the utterance of these sounds at sight of her mother—and all in all the latter had what she called “a day indeed of it!”
So she told Mr. Dodge upon his arrival from his office that evening. “Haven’t I, though!” she added, and gave him so vivid an account that, although he was tired, he got up from his easy chair and paced the floor.
“It comes back to the same old, everlasting question,” he said, when she had concluded. “What does she see in him? What on earth makes her act like that over this moron? There’s the question I don’t believe anybody can answer. She’s always been a fanciful, imaginative girl, but until this thing came over her she appeared to be fairly close to normal. Of course, I supposed she’d fall in love some day, but I thought she’d have a few remnants of reason left when she did. I’ve heard of girls that acted like this, but not many; and I never dreamed ours would be one of that sort. I’d like to know what other parents have done who’ve had daughters get into this state over some absolutely worthless cub like Crabbe Osborne.”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Dodge said, helplessly. “I’d ask ’em if I did. I’m sure I’m at my wits’ end about it.”
“We both are. I admit I haven’t the faintest idea how to do anything more intelligent than we’ve been doing—and yet I see where it’s going to end.”
“Where, Roger? Where do you think it’s going to end?”