Mrs. Willoughby nodded her head.
"Did you notice how awfully black he looked? He wouldn't look at me at all. I know why."
Mrs. Willoughby said nothing.
"He's awfully jealous. Oh, I know it. I saw it in his face. He was as black as a thunder-cloud. Oh dear! And it's all about me. Oh, Kitty darling, what shall I do? There will be something dreadful, I know. And how shocking to have it about me. And then the newspapers. They'll all have it. And the reporters. Oh dear! Kitty, why don't you say something?"
"Why, Minnie dearest, I really don't know what to say."
"But, darling, you must say something. And then that Scone Dacres. I'm more afraid of him than any body. Oh, I know he's going to kill some one. He is so big. Oh, if you had only been on his back, Kitty darling, and had him run down a steep mountain-side, you'd be as awfully afraid of him as I am. Oh, how I wish Lord Hawbury would drive them off, or somebody do something to save me."
"Would you rather that Lord Hawbury would stay, or would you like him to go too?"
"Oh dear! I don't care. If he would only go quietly and nicely, I should like to have him go too, and never, never see a man again except dear papa. And I think it's a shame. And I don't see why I should be so persecuted. And I'm tired of staying here. And I don't want to stay here any more. And, Kitty darling, why shouldn't we all go to Rome?"
"To Rome?"
"Yes."