“Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all this, I suppose. I admired your chivalry. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. Ann Veronica was overcome by this amount of emotion. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. It was at breakfast on this day that he told Ruth he had sent to Batavia for some dresses. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply.
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