‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. ‘Must be another of her lies. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. “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. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. I need only just jump up and throw myself upon you. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me.
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