Her niece stood squarely before her.
“There’s no more time for argument,” she said. “We must decide now at once. Either we must accept Mr. Barnes’ offer or—you must go up to father.”
“Oh, dear,” gasped Aunt Philomela.
“Are you going to him, Aunt?” demanded the girl.
“Oh, dear no,” she trembled. “It quite puts me out of breath to think of it.”
“Then—?”
“Do you think it possible that he can be deceived like this?” she asked.
Barnes arose.
“We can only try. It looks in our favor.”
There was a pause.