“If you really care what they say, Aunt Katherine”—Katherine spoke quickly—“need they know at all? Ashland society notes will hardly penetrate here. And you’ve had quite enough to bear.”
“Don’t think you could ever hide such a famous author as Nick has become, with only his first book, under a bushel for long, my dear. And as a matter of fact, quite apart from my joy that you are acting like a sane girl at last, and for once, I shall be proud to death of the marriage. I must call up the Gazette to-morrow, before ten. You remind me, Kate.” As well as pride there was a gleam of battle from Aunt Katherine’s eyes.
“And it really doesn’t matter a bit what they do say, except for you, Aunt Katherine,” Katherine offered. “There are four of us now, four in this family. Enough of us to stand together, I should think, and not ask much from society.”
“Four? Five!” Kate left Elsie’s side on the divan to perch on the arm of her great-aunt’s chair. “Why, five of us are quite enough to start a colony and make our own society.”
“Bless you, dear child, for counting me in,” Miss Frazier said with sheerest gratitude.
“But of course, we all count you in, and there are five of us,” Katherine cried, “only we don’t want you to sacrifice too much.” And that was the signal for a second close formation of happy people about Aunt Katherine’s chair.
“Sacrifice! Why, all I want in the world is my family. Don’t talk about sacrifice!”
It was much later that Aunt Katherine began wondering about dinner. What had become of it? Nick and Katherine had utterly forgotten that one does usually dine sometime before bedtime. They laughed at the suddenness of their return to earth.
“Ring the bell, Kate, and see if the servants are dead or asleep,” Miss Frazier said.
But at that instant Effie appeared in the door. She had heard Miss Frazier’s words. “Julia put dinner off an hour,” she explained. “It’s served now.”