“We’ve talked so much about you,” she hurried on. “You’re going to live with us after we’re married, and we’re going to do everything to make you happy. I told Lionel what a little brick you were, slaving away here, and he said he knew he’d love you. And, oh, Minnie, you’re sure to love him!”
Instead of answering Minnie got up and went to the window, stood there, staring out at the fields.
“Minnie!” cried her sister, “Please, Minnie, darling, say you’re glad!”
“I am,” said Minnie, keeping her back turned, “I’m very glad you’re so happy.”
“Please you be happy too! I’m going to make Lionel write to you the instant I get back.”
“Frankie,” said Minnie, “you’re not going back.”
There was something unmistakably sinister in her voice now; Frances looked at her nervously.
“What on earth do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean just what I say. You’re not going back to New York. I’m going and you’ll have to stay here.”
“But what ... Minnie, what nonsense! I have my job and Lionel....”