“Mrs. Sewell objects to his saving human life,” said Sewell, not able to deny himself.
“I don't see how you can take the slightest interest in him,” began Mrs. Sewell, saying a little more than she meant.
“You would, my dear,” returned Miss Vane, “if you had wronged him as I have.”
“Or as I,” said Sewell.
“I'm thankful I haven't, then,” said his wife. “It seems to me that there's nothing else of him. As to his noble behaviour, it isn't possible you believe those newspaper accounts? He didn't save any one's life; there was no danger!”
Miss Vane, preoccupied with her own ideal of the facts, stared at her without replying, and then turned to Sewell.
“I want to find him and ask him to stay with me till he can get something else to do.” Sewell's eyebrows arched themselves involuntarily. “Sibyl has gone to New York for a fortnight; I shall be quite alone in the house, and I shall be very glad of his company,” she explained to the eyebrows, while ignoring them. Her chin quivered a little, as she added, “I shall be proud of his company. I wish him to understand that he is my guest.”
“I suppose I shall see him soon,” said Sewell, “and I will give him your message.”
“Will you tell him,” persisted Miss Vane, a little hysterically, “that if he is in any way embarrassed, I insist upon his coming to me immediately—at once?”
Sewell smiled, “Yes.”