But the unfortunate Philip gaily continued: “When we are married, Aunt Aggie, and you come to stay with us, you shall have tea just when you like.”
He was laughing at her, he patronised her! He dared—! She trembled with anger.
“I shall never come and stay with you,” she said.
“Aunt Aggie!” cried Katherine, who was sitting near her mother by the window.
“No, never!” Aunt Aggie answered, her little eyes flashing and her cheeks shaking. “And if I had my way you should never be married!”
They all knew then that at last the moment had come. Henry started to his feet as though he would escape, Katherine turned towards her mother, Philip fixed his eyes gravely upon his enemy—only Mrs. Trenchard did not pause in her writing. Aunt Aggie knew then that she was committed. She did not care, she was glad if only she could hurt Philip, that hateful and intolerable young man.
Her hands trembled, her rings making a tiny clatter against the china; she saw only her sister-in-law and Philip.
Philip quietly said:
“Why do you hope that Katherine and I will never marry, Aunt Aggie?”
“Because I love Katherine—because I—we want her to make a happy marriage. Because if she—knew what I know she would not marry you.”