"I hope not," I answered.
"I consider you a very sensible girl." Here Aunt Penelope began to attack her egg.
"Really?" I answered.
"Yes, very. You have acted with judgment and forethought; I am pleased with you, I don't attempt to deny it. Now then, what do you say to my telling your father exactly where you are?"
"But, of course, you won't—you could not."
"Don't you bother me about what I won't or I could not do, for I tell you I will do anything in the world that takes my fancy, and my fancy at the present moment is to see you through a difficult pass. I don't trust Gordon Grayson—could not, after what has happened."
"Auntie! How can you speak like that!"
"There you go, flying out for no reason at all. Now, please tell me, what sort of person is that young man you care for—I hate to repeat the word love. To 'care for' a man is quite sufficient before marriage; of course, you may do what you like afterwards—anyhow, you care for or love, forsooth! this youth. What is he like?"
"Just splendid," I said. "I have put him into my gallery of heroes."
"Oh, now you are talking rubbish! Is he the sort of man your dear mother, my blessed sister, would have approved of your marrying? Think carefully and tell me the truth."