“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do in France with this war going on?”
“I am not quite sure.”
This was too much for the irate old lady, so without making any adieux, she took her departure, scorning the polite assistance of her three nephews. Professor Green called her coachman and helped her into the great carriage she still held to, the kind seen now-a-days only in museums.
“Kent, how could you?” laughed Mrs. Brown, in spite of her attempt to look shocked.
“I think Kent was right,” declared Molly. “How could he tell Aunt Clay he was going to France to get Judy? She would never have let up on it. I’m glad she has gone, anyhow! We were having a very nice time without her.”
“Molly!” and Mrs. Brown looked shocked. She always exacted a show of respect from her children to this very difficult elder sister Sarah.
“Oh, Mumsy, we have to break loose sometimes!” exclaimed Molly. “The idea of her saying Mildred was blue with cold! Criticising poor Sue, too! Goodness, I’d hate to be the one that Aunt Clay had taken a shine to. I’d almost rather have her despise me as she does.”
“Not despise you, Molly,—you don’t understand your Aunt Clay.”
“Well, perhaps not, but she puts up a mighty good imitation of despising. I think it is because I look so like Cousin Sally Bolling and she never forgave the present Marquise d’Ochtè for making fun of her long years ago. And then to crown it all, Cousin Sally got the inheritance from Greataunt Sarah Carmichael and married the Marquis, at least she married the Marquis and then got the inheritance. It was too much for Aunt Clay.”