"No, you must not go away so! you look shockingly," was the anxious cry of her mother and sister.
"Do listen to reason, Gertrude," said Jenny in a complaining tone.
"We must silence Wolff--uncle can inquire how much he asks for his services, and--"
"And you will come to us again," sobbed her mother. "Gertrude, Gertrude, my poor unhappy child, did I not foresee this?"
"This is too much!" growled the old gentleman. "Confound these women! Don't let them talk you into anything, child," he cried, forcibly; "settle it with your husband alone."
"A carriage, uncle," reiterated the young wife.
"Wait a while at least," entreated Jenny, "till mamma's lawyer--"
"Oh," groaned Uncle Henry, "if Arthur had only been here, this confounded affair wouldn't have been left in the women's hands. I will get you a carriage, Gertrude. Your nags are at the factory, Jenny? Very well. Excuse me a moment."
Gertrude was standing in the window like one stunned; she had as yet no clear understanding of the matter. "The whole city is talking about it," she heard her mother sob. Of what then? She tried forcibly to collect her thoughts, but in vain. Only one thing: it is not true! went over and over in her mind.
She clenched her little hand in its leather glove. "A lie! A lie!" fell again from her lips. But this lie had spread itself like a heavy mist over her young happiness, bringing so much vague alarm that her breath came thick and fast.