“If I had been that same Roman father, it would not have been my own kid I’d have killed, you bet. It would have been t’other I’d have gone for. I mean, I never could see the sense of Virginius slaying his own daughter, and running amuck through the streets of Rome, instead of doing execution on the minion of Appius Claudius in the first place. It was wrong end foremost, like most of the heroic dodges.”
Of course it was Wynnette who spoke. She was standing within the open door.
“What do you want, my dear?” inquired her father.
“Mamma sent me to look for you, and tell you that it is half-past nine. She and Odalite are ready, and the carriage is at the door.”
“Thank you, dear. Tell mamma that I will be with her in a moment,” said Mr. Force, as he arose from his seat.
Wynnette ran off with her message.
“So, uncle, you will not allow me to go with you to the examination?” inquired Le.
“By no means! On no account, dear boy! You yourself should not wish it under the circumstances.”
“All right. Who is going with Odalite besides yourself?”
“Her mother, her two sisters, Rosemary Hedge, and the four Misses Grandiere.”