Reflection convinced him that he could not.
“Then I’ll get myself called away, and I’ll stay away until—”
Until what? What was to save him? Where could he find a refuge from feminine persecution?[Pg 11]
He went to bed, but he could not sleep. He was quite worn and haggard in the morning, and Miss Franklin observed it at the breakfast-table.
“You look awfully tired,” she said. “Why don’t you take a rest to-day?”
“Never was busier!” he answered hastily. “I haven’t a free moment all day. Please see that I’m not disturbed.”
“How am I to know which women disturb you and which ones you’re—studying?” Miss Franklin asked with outrageous impudence. “Better give me a list.”
He strode into his office, closed the door, and tried to resume that unfinished letter to Marian. He hadn’t got well started when the bell rang and the parlor-maid ushered in little Mavis Borrowby, flushed and out of breath.
“Oh, doctor!” she cried. “Such a row! Imagine! I’ve had to run away! Papa is in the most awful rage!” She sank into a chair. “You see,” she said, “I told Edward last night that I wouldn’t marry him—ever. I said I didn’t believe in marriage. And he—nasty little sneak!—ran off to papa and told him. You can imagine how papa took it, with his old-fogy ideas. He roared and stamped and swore. He wanted to know where I got such ideas from; and I said, very calmly, from you. Then he said I must never speak to you again, and all sorts of nonsense. Of course I said I would speak to you, and I would never, never renounce you for any one—”
“Renounce me! Really, Mavis, isn’t that a bit—”