"Yes, yes, she is right there, mamma," said Jenny.
"Oh, of course!" was the reply, "I am to say yes and amen at once. But I must speak to Arthur first and to Aunt Pauline and Uncle Henry. I will not take the responsibility of such a step on myself alone in any case."
"Mamma, you will not go asking the whole neighborhood," said the young girl, in a trembling voice. "It only concerns you and me, and--" she drew a long breath--"I shall hardly change my mind in consequence of any representations."
"But Arthur could make inquiries about him," interrupted Jenny.
"Thank you, Jenny, I beg you will spare yourself the trouble. My heart speaks loudly enough for him. If I had not known my own mind weeks ago, I should not be standing before you as I am now."
"You are an ungrateful and heartless child," sobbed her mother. "You think you will conquer me by your obstinacy. Your father used to drive me wild with just that same calmness. It makes me tremble all over only just to see those firmly closed lips and those calm eyes. It is dreadful!"
Gertrude remained standing a few minutes, then without a word of reply she left the room.
"It is a speculation on his part," said Mrs. Jenny, carelessly, "there is no doubt of that."
"And she believes all he tells her," sobbed the mother. "That unlucky christening was the cause of it all. She is so impressed by anything of that sort."
Jenny nodded.