“I despise him!”
“I understand, dear. All girls get frightened and—”
“But it isn't that, mother. I don't love him. I can't go on. Won't you, this minute, tell him—tell everybody—?”
“Darling, don't you realize I can't?” Missy had never before heard old Mrs. Greenleaf's voice tremble.
“The invitation, and the trousseau, and the presents, and everything. Think of the scandal, dear. We couldn't. Don't you see, dear, we can't back out, now?”
“O-o-oh.”
“I almost wish—but don't you see—?”
“Oh, I can't stand it another hour!”
“You're excited, dear,” soothingly. “You'd better go rest a while. I'll have a good talk with Porter. And you go upstairs and lie down. The Carrolls' dinner—”
“Oh, dinners, luncheons, clothes. I—”