"If that is all you have got to say," she said, "I will go and talk to Auntie." And she had the door open before Fanny found her tongue.
Then:
"Oh, I say, Toni, don't be horrid and stuck-up." Fanny's wail brought Toni to a standstill. "If you are Mr. Rose's wife, and a fine lady, and in with a lot of smart people, you needn't go and be nasty to your own cousin."
Something in her voice brought Toni quickly back into the room.
"Don't be silly, Fan!" She spoke impetuously. "Of course I am not being stuck-up; you know I wouldn't be nasty to you for the world, but I do so hate that sort of talk about men being fond of you and all that."
"Well, I didn't know you minded," said Fanny humbly, and Toni's heart smote her.
"Oh, Fan, I don't mind—really—and I didn't mean to be cross. Now tell me, how do you like my frock? It's the first time I've had it on."
And in the ensuing animated discussion on frocks and frills Fanny lost that queer, uncomfortable sense of inferiority which had sprung to birth beneath Toni's manner.
Somehow, after that Toni found the time drag. She was gentle and friendly with her aunt, affectionate towards Lu, cordial with her uncle and the rest; but she found herself longing for Owen's arrival as a signal for her release.
The good-natured chatter, the well-meant inquisitiveness which found vent in a ceaseless inquiry into the details of her new life, the noisy jokes and laughter, the very persistence of the hospitality which filled her cup and plate over and over again—they all jarred this afternoon; and quite involuntarily Toni sighed for the peace and spaciousness, the gracious calm and tranquillity of Greenriver.