"You are very
cruel to me----"
"I wish to be. I desire to be a monster!" he retorted fiercely. "You're
an exceedingly bad, ungrateful, undutiful, disobedient and foolish child.
Your sisters and I are going to motor to Westchester and lunch there with
your sister and your latest brother-in-law. And if they ask why you
didn't come I'll tell them that it's because you're undutiful, and that
you are not to stir outdoors for a week, or see anybody who comes into
this house!"
"I--I suppose I d-deserve it," she acquiesced tearfully. "I'm quite ready
to be disciplined, and quite willing not to see anybody named George--
ever! Besides, you have scared me d-dreadfully! I--I don't want to go out
of the house."
And when her father had retired with a bounce she remained alone in the
gymnasium, eyes downcast, lips quivering. Later still, sitting in
precisely the same position, she heard the soft whir of the touring car
outside; then the click of the closing door.
"There they go," she said to herself, "and they'll have such a jolly
time, and all those very agreeable Westchester young men will be there--
particularly Mr. Montmorency.... I _did_ like him awfully; besides, his
name is Julian, so it is p-perfectly safe to like him--and I _did_ want
to see how Sacharissa looks after her bridal trip."
Her lower lip trembled; she steadied it between her teeth, gazed
miserably at the floor, and beat a desolate tattoo on it with the tip of
her foil.
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