"That I should—marry him, and settle the obligation that way, perhaps?"
"Well, yes my dear, I did hope so—"
"Oh!—I'm going to marry—"
"Then why did you send—"
"I'm going to marry Mr. Cassilis—whenever he pleases!"
"Anthea!" The word was a cry, and her needle-work slipped from Miss
Priscilla's nerveless fingers.
"He asked me to write and tell him if ever I changed my mind—"
"Oh—my dear! my dear!" cried Miss Priscilla reaching out imploring hands, "you never mean it,—you are all distraught to-day—tired, and worn out with worry, and loss of sleep,—wait!"
"Wait!" repeated Anthea bitterly, "for what?"
"To—marry—him! O Anthea! you never mean it? Think,—think what you are doing."