"I! Oh, I don't know," I faltered, growing red and devoutly wishing that Paulina had not such an unruly tongue. It struck me afterwards that she had perhaps said the first thing that occurred to her in order to prevent Miss Cottrell's remarking on her father's sudden departure from the table. If so, she succeeded in creating a diversion, for in my confusion I turned to help myself to salt so awkwardly that I upset the tiny salt-cellar and brought upon myself an indignant expostulation from Miss Cottrell.
"How could you be so careless? Don't you know it is most unlucky to spill salt?"
"But I don't believe in ill-luck," I said. "I am not at all afraid of the consequences of this action. See, nothing is broken; I put back the salt and it is as it was before."
"It is all very well to say that," returned Miss Cottrell, "but you may have brought ill-luck on the rest of us."
"Nan, Nan," cried Paulina, assuming a tragic air, "if we are all burned in our beds to-night, I will never forgive you!"
Then we entered upon a general discussion of local superstitions, and I hoped that my maladroitness was forgotten.
Nothing ever escaped Paulina's observation. As we rose from the table she drew me towards the garden, mischief in her eyes; but the sight of the chaise standing before the hall door arrested her attention.
"Who is going off by the early train?" she asked.
"I am, Pollie," said her father, coming quickly down the stairs. "I have to go up to town on a little matter of business which cannot be delayed."
"What—the first morning!" cried Paulina. "You need not talk of my rushing about. But, if you must go, I'll drive you. Where's a hat?"