"Never. And you—you will never again give me cause, darling, will you?"
"I gave you no cause now," says the darling, shaking her pretty head obstinately. And he doesn't dare contradict her. "You behaved really badly," she goes on, reproachfully, "and at such a time, too,—just when I was dying to tell you such good news."
"Good?—your aunts—" eagerly, "have relented—they——"
"Oh, no! oh, dear, no!" says Miss Beresford. "They are harder than ever against you. Adamant is a sponge in comparison with them. It isn't that; but Madam O'Connor has asked me to go and stay with her next Monday for a week!—there!"
"And me too?"
"N—o. Aunt Priscilla made it a condition with regard to my going that you shouldn't be there."
"The——And Madam O'Connor gave in to such abominable tyranny?"
"Without a murmur."
"I thought she had a soul above that sort of thing," says Mr. Desmond, with disgust. "But they are all alike."
"Who?—women?"