Then Fanny stroked her down.
"Never mind that old woman. I shall interfere properly, if I see you in
danger. It was monstrous her making an _esclandre_ at the very
dinner-table, and spoiling your happy day."
"But she hasn't!" cried Zoe, eagerly. "'All's well that ends well.' I am
happy--oh, so happy! You love me. Harrington loves me. _He_ loves me.
What more can any woman ask for than to be _ambata bene?"_
This was the last word between Zoe and Fanny upon St. Brooch's day.
As Fanny went to her own room, the vigilant Maitland opened her door that
looked upon the corridor and beckoned her in. "Well," said she, "did you
speak to Zoe?"
"Just a word before dinner. Aunt, she came in wet, to the skin, and in
higher spirits than Rosa ever knew her."
Aunt groaned.
"And what do you think? Her spoiled dress, she ordered it to be ironed
and put by. _It is a case."_
Next day they all met at a late breakfast, and good humor was the order
of the day. This encouraged Zoe to throw out a feeler about the
gambling-tables. Then Fanny said it must be nice to gamble, because it
was so naughty. "In a long experience," said Miss Dover, with a sigh, "I
have found that whatever is nice is naughty, and whatever is naughty is
nice.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161