"Well—golf!" she cried, with overdone cheerfulness.
Aunt Susannah started. Recovering herself, she eyed us with a stony glare which froze me where I sat.
"There is really nothing else to do in these wilds, you know," Amanda pursued gallantly, though even she was beginning to look frightened. "And it is such a lovely game. You'll like it immensely."
"What do you say it is called?" asked Aunt Susannah in awful tones.
"Golf," Amanda repeated meekly; and for the first time her voice shook.
"Spell it!" commanded Aunt Susannah.
Amanda obeyed, with increasing meekness.
"Why do you call it 'goff' if there's an 'l' in it?" asked Aunt Susannah.
"I—I'm afraid I don't know," said Amanda faintly.
Aunt Susannah sniffed disparagingly. She condescended, however, to inquire into the nature of the game, and Amanda gave an elaborate explanation in faltering accents. She glanced imploringly at me; but I would not meet her eye.