“They might do you good,” she remarked. “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. Another long interval elapsed. But this only incensed the assailing party the more. I will do anything and everything I can to become your equal. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. Or perhaps my father once. Stanley’s pace slackened. 1. Let me take the satchel, sir. ‘Didn’t mean to say that.
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