“But why not, Victoria? Why have you such an aversion for Mr. Madison?”
“Oh, because,” said Victoria, breaking down somewhat lamely. “I don’t want them to marry any one. I wish you hadn’t told me. Not that I think there is anything in it at all, but—but it just makes me think about it.”
“I most sincerely wish I had not,” rejoined Mrs. Wentworth Ward. “It has quite prevented your being of any further assistance to me this afternoon, and we may as well lay aside these other papers. You are usually so sensible that I supposed you would be so in this case. It is quite absurd for you to become so excited. There is another question that I wish to speak about to one of you, but I will wait until I see Honor. She is the proper one.”
Victoria was sorry that she had allowed her excitement to run away with her. If it had been any one but Roger Madison whom her aunt had suggested as a possible husband for Katherine, she could have borne it better, but try as she would, and much as she really liked the young man, she could not overcome the feeling that she had about him in regard to the sale of the etchings.
That affair had assumed astounding proportions in her mind. From constant brooding over it without imparting the facts of the case to any one else, she had greatly exaggerated their importance. It seemed to her out of the question that Katherine should be allowed to become engaged while in ignorance of it, and in that event, Honor too should be told, and yet after her long silence she dreaded speaking of it. She wished that she could ask the advice of some one else, some older person, but there was no one. If it were upon any other subject, she would go at once to Miss Madison, she thought, who was so kind and friendly, but under the circumstances of course that was out of the question.
Even though Victoria and Roger Madison had met that afternoon in Peter’s room, she had tried since to avoid him. This was not easy, for he came to the house very frequently, ostensibly to see Peter. Was it really to see Katherine? She wondered what other alarming news her Aunt Sophia might have to disclose. Something disagreeable, she had no doubt, and she would try to save Honor from hearing it.
“I hope you will tell me,” she said, as she watched her aunt fold up the unanswered letters, replace them in their envelopes, and lay them away in the proper pigeon-hole in her desk. “I will try not to be so excited over this, but the other was such a surprise.”
“I have no doubt this will be also,” said Mrs. Wentworth Ward, “and probably you will take up the cudgels in defence of the young man just as violently as you have scouted the idea of Katherine’s plans.”
“Her plans? And what young man? Are you again speaking of Mr. Madison?”