She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. Cathy Beck was outraged. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. He shall have the estates. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. An unwelcome idea came to him. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. ” “If you can tear yourself away from this delightful place in five minutes,” she answered, “I think I can get rid of the others. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. She felt much better.
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