The question was rather a cruel one, and it stung Sheila into answering bravely, "Because my husband wished me."
"Oh. You think your husband is to be the first law of your life?"
"Yes, I do."
"Even when he is only silly Frank Lavender?"
Sheila rose. There was a quivering of her lips, but no weakness in the proud, indignant look of her eyes: "What you may say of me, that I do not care. But I will not remain to hear my husband insulted."
"Sheila," said Lavender, vexed and anxious, and yet pleased at the same time by the courage of the girl—"Sheila, it is only a joke. You must not mind: it is only a bit of fun."
"I do not understand such jests," she said calmly.
"Sit down, like a good girl," said the old lady with an air of absolute indifference. "I did not mean to offend you. Sit down and be quiet. You will destroy your nervous system if you give way to such impulses. I think you are healthy. I like the look of you, but you will never reach a good age, as I hope to do, except by moderating your passions. That is well: now take the ammonia again, and give it to me. You don't wish to die young, I suppose?"
"I am not afraid of dying," said Sheila.
"Ring the bell, Frank."