"I think it very improbable," returns he, raising his hat gravely and taking his departure.
"Now, what have you been saying to that wretched young man, Monica?" says Kit, severely, standing still in the middle of the road, the better to bring her sister beneath the majesty of her eye.
"Nothing. Nothing that any reasonable being could object to," declares Monica, with such an amount of vigor as startles Kit. "But of all the ill-tempered, bearish, detestable men I ever met in my life, he is the worst."
Which unlooked for explosion from the gentle Monica has the effect of silencing Kit for the remainder of the walk.
CHAPTER XV.
How the Misses Blake discover a gigantic fraud—How Terence is again arraigned, and brought before the Court on a charge of duplicity—and how he is nearly committed for contempt.
Reaching home, they find the atmosphere there decidedly clouded. Miss Priscilla, who has returned from her drive just a moment before, is standing in the hall, gazing with a stern countenance upon the old-fashioned eight-day clock, in which two or three people might be safely stowed away. The clock regards her not at all, but ticks on loudly with a sort of exasperating obstinacy, as though determined to remind every one of the flight of time.
"Who has wound this clock?" demands Miss Priscilla, in an awful tone. With a thrill of thankfulness the girls feel they can answer truthfully, "Not I."
"Dear me!" says Miss Penelope, timidly, advancing from the morning-room; "I did. You were so long out, Priscilla, and I feared—I mean, I thought it would save you the trouble."