He had already said, "You go!" in rather a high-noted tone of surprised remonstrance when Margaret suggested, some time before, that she should go herself to Charleston and bring Garda back. "And leave me shut up alone here!" he added, as if to bring home to her the barbarity of her proposal.
"The servants do very well at present."
"They don't look as you do," Lanse answered, gallantly. "I must have something to look at."
"But I think I ought to go."
"You can dismiss that 'ought' from your mind, there are other 'oughts' that come nearer. In fact, viewing the matter impartially, you should never have consented in the beginning, Madge, to take charge of that girl, without first consulting me." Lanse brought out this last touch with much judicial gravity. "Fortunately your guardianship, such as it is, will soon be over," he went on; "she will have a husband to see to her. Apparently she needs one."
"That won't be for six months yet."
"Call it two; as I understand it, there's nothing but dogmatic custom between them, and as Florida isn't the land of custom—"
"Yes, it is."
"Well, even grant that; the girl is, from all accounts, a rich specimen of wilfulness—"
"Of naturalness."