Amelia was annoyed.
"If you'll keep still, Kittie, I'll tell you all about it. If you can't wait I won't tell you at all."
Kittie subsided, and the story flowed on.
"He adores her, but he's very stubborn, and there's a man he hates worse than poison. They had some sort of a business quarrel a long time ago, and Mr. Holland is as bitter as can be yet and never allows one of his family to speak to one of the other family. He said he'd shoot any Clark who stepped a foot on his grounds."
Amelia's face was radiant with satisfaction. Her voice was hushed for dramatic effect.
"There's a Clark boy," she went on; then, not pleased with the ring of her sentence, began again.
"The hated enemy has a son." That was much better, and it gave her a good running start. "He's handsome as a prince, and perfectly lovely in every way." Miss Lucilla hadn't confided this fact to Miss Emmeline, but there are some things one knows instinctively, and Amelia believes in poetic license as applied to drama. "He's been away at school, but he came home last June, and he and Katharine got acquainted somewhere. She didn't dare tell her father she had met him, but she loved him desperately at first sight." Once more Miss Lucilla's bald facts were being elaborated.
"Did he fall in love that way, too?" Kittie was athirst for detail.
"He was crazy over her the minute he set eyes on her, and he just had to see her again, and he got a friend to take her walking and let him meet them, and it went on that way until they got so well acquainted that he could make love to her, and then they got rid of the friend and used to go walking all by themselves, and finally somebody saw them and told Katharine's father. My, but he was mad. He sent for Katharine and she wouldn't lie to him. She said she and the young man were engaged and she was going to marry him, and her father swore something awful, and her mother cried, and Katharine was just as white as marble, but she kept perfectly calm." Amelia was warming to her work. "And they imprisoned her in her room, and her father used to go and try to make her promise she'd never speak to her lover again, and her mother used to cry and beg her to give him up. But they couldn't break her spirit or make her false to her vows, and finally they decided to send her away, so they wrote to Miss Lucilla and told her all about it. Miss Lucilla said she hated to have such a responsibility, but that they offered so much money she didn't feel she could refuse to take the girl—and that, anyway, the parents probably knew best, and it was for Katharine's best interests she should be separated from the boy. So Mr. Holland brought Katharine here, and she's not to stir out without a teacher, and she's not to have any mail save what passes through Miss Lucilla's hands and is opened by her, and she's not to receive any callers unless they bring a note from her father, and she's not to write letters except to her mother."
"How'll they help it, I'd like to know? They can't watch her all the time," chorused the two listeners, each mentally devoting her inkstand, pen, stationery and services as postman to the cause of unfortunate love.