Cornelia shrugged expressively.
“I know what that means! I guess I’m ugly enough to kill. That’s why I hate to cry—it musses one up so for hours after. ... Captain Guest, what am I going to do next? Can I settle up, and get away to Norton this afternoon, do you suppose?”
“I am afraid not. The last train leaves at three o’clock, and that does not give enough time for all that has to be done. I was wondering whether my aunt—whether you would consent to sleep at her house to-night.”
“Suttenly not! Why should I? It won’t be the first time by a good many that I’ve stayed a night by myself in a hotel, and there’s no reason why I should move. I’ll have my meals up in this room, if it will ease you any, but I won’t leave this place till to-morrow morning. Then I’ll go back,” she laughed feebly, “to The Nook, and humble pie!”
“You need not tell your aunt what has happened, if you don’t choose to do so!”
“Oh, yes; I’ll own up! Aunt Soph will be pleased to feel she was right. Maybe she’ll like me better when I’m down on my luck. ... What must I set about first?”
“I shall interview the hotel manager, and tell him the whole story—that’s due to him, you know, or there might be a repetition of the offence. Then there’s the jeweller—he must be warned in the same way, and the necklace returned. I presume you don’t want to keep it.”
Cornelia shuddered.
“Oh, no. I could never wear it. But when Poppar comes over I’ll make him buy me something else instead. Mr Marchant shan’t lose! I guess I’d better drive there straight away, and then to the bank. I’ll have to arrange for a pretty big draft. ... You never know how things are going to pan out in this world, do you? I thought I was going to spend this afternoon on the river, gliding about so sweet and peaceful!”