d on a great
many points, and, moreover, was exceedingly free-spoken. I did not
expect any direct information from her, but she might say something from
which I might make inferences.
She thought I had come to thank her for what she had done for me, but I
assured her that this ceremony must be postponed for the present, for
Sylvia had instructed me to write my gratitude in a letter, which she
thought would be a much preferable method than for me to pour it out in
a private interview.
"Your Sylvia seems to be a jealous little body," she remarked.
"Oh, no," said I, "although, of course, it is natural enough for persons
in our state of mind to have tendencies that way. By the way, one of
these tendencies on her part was rather odd. Do you know that at one
time she was almost jealous of her cousin Marcia, at that time a
gray-bonneted sister? As you know so much of our affairs I do not think
I am going too far in telling that."
Miss Laniston seemed to be considering the subject.
"It is the commonest thing," she said presently, "to make mistakes about
matters of this sort. Now, for instance, I once put some questions to
you which seemed to indicate that there might be some reason for
Sylvia's uneasiness. Didn't you think they pointed that way?"
"Yes, I did," I replied.
"And have you ever thought of it since?" she asked.
"Occasionally. Of course the matter is of no vital interest now. But at
the time you spoke of it, I could not help wondering if I had said or
done anything during my rather intimate acquaintance with Mother
Anastasia which would give you good cause to put the questions to which
you just now alluded."
"Well," said Miss Laniston, "you seemed to me, at the time, to be in a
decidedly unbalanced state of mind, but I think I acted most
unwarrantably in speaking of Marcia as I did. In fact, I often act
unwarrantably. It is one of my habits. And to prove it to you, I am
going to act unwarrantably again. Having brought the elder Miss Raynor
before you in a way that might have led you to have undefined ideas
about her, I am going to bring her before you again in order that those
ideas may be exactly defined. It is all wrong, I know, but I like to set
things straight, whether I do it in the right way or wrong way."
"That is exactly my disposition," I replied; "I always want to set
things straight."
She left the room, and soon returned with a letter.
"When I decide positively to do a thing," she
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