"Mamma's bewildered—there are so many paths she wants to follow, there are so many bundles of hay. As I told you, she wishes to gobble them all," the girl pursued. Then she added: "Yes, go and take the carriage; take a turn round the Park—you always delight in that—and come back for me in an hour."
"I'm too vexed with you; the air will do me good," said Mrs. Rooth. But before she went she addressed Nick: "I've your assurance that you'll bring him then to-night?"
"Bring Peter? I don't think I shall have to drag him," Nick returned. "But you must do me the justice to remember that if I should resort to force I should do something that's not particularly in my interest—I should be magnanimous."
"We must always be that, mustn't we?" moralised Mrs. Rooth.
"How could it affect your interest?" Miriam asked less abstractedly.
"Yes, as you say," her mother mused at their host, "the question of marriage has ceased to exist for you."
"Mamma goes straight at it!" laughed the girl, getting up while Nick rubbed his canvas before answering. Miriam went to mamma and settled her bonnet and mantle in preparation for her drive, then stood a moment with a filial arm about her and as if waiting for their friend's explanation. This, however, when it came halted visibly.
"Why you said a while ago that if Peter was there you wouldn't act."
"I'll act for him," smiled Miriam, inconsequently caressing her mother.
"It doesn't matter whom it's for!" Mrs. Rooth declared sagaciously.