“And you pretended to be doing it all for my happiness, too! Oh! oh! oh!” Her anger vented itself impotently in these exclamations, and then her mother, white and alarmed, appeared in the doorway behind her.
“Lavinia,” she said quietly.
The girl trembled violently, then whirled about, pressed her hands to her face, and ran in, brushing by her mother in the doorway. Mrs. Blair glanced after her irresolutely. Then she went to her husband.
“Be calm, dear,” she said.
The judge sank back in his chair and looked at her in amazement.
“What has happened?” She drew the empty chair up and sat down in it. She leaned forward and took one of his hands, and pressed it between both of her own. She waited for the judge to speak.
“I hardly know,” he began. “I never heard Lavinia break out so.”
“You must remember how excited and overwrought she is,” Mrs. Blair exclaimed. “You must make allowances.”
“I didn’t know the girl had such spirit,” he continued.
Mrs. Blair smiled rather wanly, and stroked her husband’s hand. It was very cold and moist, and it trembled.