“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Over here, there was generally some unusual twist to a case. “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. ” “I should have his head on a platter!” Sebastian exclaimed dramatically. They were enormously pleased with one another; they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. ‘What a fate he finds for me. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. . "Leave us, Mrs.
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