“Is Aunt Julie pleased?” asked Netty.
“Almighty,” was the brief reply. “And she will accept it. She will marry the paid secretary. They have a paid secretary. President usually marries him. He is not a bachelor-woman. They're mostly worms—the men that help women to make fools of themselves.”
This was very strong language for Uncle Joseph, who usually seemed to have a latent admiration for his gifted sister's greatness. Netty suspected that he was angry, or put out by something else, and made the Massachusetts Women Bachelors bear the brunt of his displeasure.
“She is a masterful woman is Aunt Jooly,” he said; “she'll give him his choice between dismissal and—and earthly paradise.”
Netty laughed soothingly, and glanced up at him again. He was walking along with huge, lanky strides, much more hurriedly than he was aware of. His head was thrust forward, and his chin went first as if to push a way through a crowded world.
And it was borne in upon Netty that Uncle Joseph had received some order; that he was pluming his ragged old wings for flight.
XXXIII
THIN ICE
It was not yet mid-day when Paul Deulin called at the Bukaty Palace.