" "So I perceive," replied Wood. ’ ‘That’s just it,’ said Joan Ibstock shamefacedly. "And now, farewell, Mr. We'll get together this afternoon; and you can pretend that I am your father. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. That was Leonardo’s motto. The world, she discovered, with these matters barred had no particular place for her at all, nothing for her to do, except a functionless existence varied by calls, tennis, selected novels, walks, and dusting in her father’s house. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do.
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