We have met before. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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