And now to return to the thread of my narrative. After the first flutter of excitement and Mrs. Mount’s stab at matchmaking, I had a fit of nerves and went to my room. I had my lunch sent to me; I wished to think. And I thought and thought; and then I realized that all my effort could not hit upon a line of action. What to do? Would that a fairy would speak!
But a demon spoke—a demon, a hell-cat’s words with the philosophy of Satan!
Shortly after lunch I heard the Mounts at it again.
“I’m sure she’ll never marry him now. What girl would marry a man who would imperil her life so?”
“What do you know of diplomacy? Will you answer me that now, you who was so fond of back answering last night?”
“I—”
“I tell you, you know nothing. The girl’s gone to bed, and her no more scared than you be.”
“But, Mother, her nerves—”
“Her nerves, her nothing, all bunkum! She’s gone to bed to ketch him. She’s going to ketch him if you don’t look out. That’s what I’m frightened of.”
“But how?”