“That was very right of Francis.”
“And he was afraid the car would break down; he had to take it to the garage for repairs.”
“Oh, dear!” sighed the poor mother once more.
It was only after Tina seemed to be asleep that she stole down-stairs again to drop into an uneasy slumber herself.
This battle was going to be a long and weary fray.
They were all down unusually early to breakfast but Tina.
“Don’t waken Miss Tina,” Mrs. Malison warned the maid.
“Sure she’s not in the house, ma’am.” Emma’s tone was glibly important. “Bridget said as how Miss Tina slipped out at six o’clock this morning; she came down the stairs a tiptoe in her new grey shuit. ’Twas towards the trolley car she wint.”
It had happened then already—the blow had fallen! The headstrong child had gone. Mrs. Malison whispered the words with lips that could hardly frame the words. Other people’s daughters had deceived them and done this thing—she had felt shamed for them—but hers! The room went around with her, some one was bringing her water. She saw the scared faces of Annette and Elinor bending over her—the moments seemed like dreary years as they passed.