"After all, one does not live in one's rooms," said Julia.
"But," said Philip, returning to the charge, "why should not you, Mrs. Caruthers, do what you like? Why should you be displeased in Saratoga, or anywhere, merely because other people are pleased there? Why not do as you like?"
"You know one can't do as one likes in this world," Julia returned.
"Why not, if one can,—as you can?" said Philip, laughing.
"But that's ridiculous," said Julia, raising herself up with a little show of energy. "You know perfectly well, Mr. Dillwyn, that people belonging to the world must do as the rest of the world do. Nobody is in town. If we stayed here, people would get up some unspeakable story to account for our doing it; that would be the next thing."
"Dillwyn, where are you going?" said Tom suddenly from the floor, where he had been more uneasy than his situation accounted for.
"I don't know—perhaps I'll take your train and go to Saratoga too. Not for fear, though."
"That's capital!" said Tom, half raising himself up and leaning on his elbow. "I'll turn the care of my family over to you, and I'll seek the wilderness."
"What wilderness?" asked his sister sharply.
"Some wilderness—some place where I shall not see crinoline, nor be expected to do the polite thing. I'll go for the sea, I guess."