Tony shook his head solemnly, but his heart was light, as he said:
"No one can pretend to understand a woman. I have no doubt whatever that you did everything you could to annoy and rouse that poor lady, and then, having achieved your object and forced Ballinger's hand, you turn and rend him for crying out when he's hurt."
"It's only women who may cry out. A man that is a man suffers in silence."
"H'm--I'm not so sure; it depends on the man."
"Well, I'll tell you this: that I won't marry any one I can't lean against in a crisis. If I think a man can't bear my light weight without crumpling up, I've no use for him; and the man who goes back on one woman will go back on another. No, thank you."
"Will you tell your father this?"
"Oh, dear, yes; and tell him you pleaded Mr. Ballinger's cause and made my life a burden generally. I'll be a sister to him, Tony, and tell him a few home truths; it would do him all the good in the world."
"Well, I sincerely trust no more young men will come to me about you; upon my word, this sort of thing is twenty times worse than parents. You're a frightful responsibility, Lallie."
Her lips trembled, she gave him a long reproachful look, and then seemed to collapse into a pathetic little heap on the keyboard of the piano, her arms spread out on the protesting notes, her head down on her arms.
Lallie was crying, and crying bitterly.