return
of her bewilderment.
"He has written an absurd perverted letter, all quotations," Cousin
Caroline puffed. "He thinks he's doing a very fine thing, where we only
see the folly of it.... The girl's every bit as infatuated as he is--for
which I blame him."
"She entangled him," Aunt Celia intervened, with a very curious
smoothness of intonation, which seemed to convey a vision of threads
weaving and interweaving a close, white mesh round their victim.
"It's no use going into the rights and wrongs of the affair now, Celia,"
said Cousin Caroline with some acerbity, for she believed herself the
only practical one of the family, and regretted that, owing to the
slowness of the kitchen clock, Mrs. Milvain had already confused
poor dear Maggie with her own incomplete version of the facts. "The
mischief's done, and very ugly mischief too. Are we to allow the third
child to be born out of wedlock? (I am sorry to have to say these things
before you, Katharine.) He will bear your name, Maggie--your father's
name, remember."
"But let us hope it will be a girl," said Mrs. Hilbery.
Katharine, who had been looking at her mother constantly, while the
chatter of tongues held sway, perceived that the look of straightforward
indignation had already vanished; her mother was evidently casting
about in her mind for some method of escape, or bright spot, or sudden
illumination which should show to the satisfaction of everybody that all
had happened, miraculously but incontestably, for the best.
"It's detestable--quite detestable!" she repeated, but in tones of no
great assurance; and then her face lit up with a smile which, tentative
at first, soon became almost assured. "Nowadays, people don't think
so badly of these things as they used to do," she began. "It will be
horribly uncomfortable for them sometimes, but if they are brave, clever
children, as they will be, I dare say it'll make remarkable people of
them in the end. Robert Browning used to say that every great man has
Jewish blood in him, and we must try to look at it in that light. And,
after all, Cyril has acted on principle. One may disagree with
his principle, but, at least, one can respect it--like the French
Revolution, or Cromwell cutting the King's head off. Some of the most
terrible things in history have been done on principle," she concluded.
"I'm afraid I take a very different view of principle," Cousin Caroline
remarked tartly.
"Principle!" Aunt Cel
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