r. She remembered Richard; her mother
was right; she was not a child, she was a woman, and so the world should
find her. Dorothy's eyes began to gleam dangerously, and if Mrs.
Hanway-Harley had owned any gift to read faces, she might have hesitated
at this pinch.

"What would you have?" said Dorothy, and her tones were as brittle and
as devoid of sentimental softness as Mrs. Hanway-Harley's.

"Marriage."

"Marriage with Storri?"

"Dorothy," said Mrs. Hanway-Harley with a sigh, softly returning to the
lines she had originally laid out, "Count Storri, in the most delicate
way, like the gentleman and nobleman he is, has asked for your hand."

Mrs. Hanway-Harley had read something like this in a magazine, and now
reeled it off with tender majesty. When she spoke of Storri she had
quite the empress air.

"For my hand!" said Dorothy, beginning to pant.

Mrs. Hanway-Harley looked up; there was a hardness in Dorothy's tone
that was not only new, but unpleasant. Down deep in her nature, Dorothy
hid those stubborn traits that distinguished her religious ancestor of
the gate-post and the water-pan.

"For your hand," repeated Mrs. Hanway-Harley uneasily.

Dorothy making no return, Mrs. Hanway-Harley, after waiting a moment,
gave herself to a recount of those glowing advantages promised by such a
marriage. Was a nobleman, wealthy, young, handsome, on terms of
comradeship with his Czar, to be refused? Half the women in Washington
were wild for such an offer. It would place the Harleys on a footing by
themselves.

"But I don't love him!" urged Dorothy, as though that had to do with the
question.

At this foolishly unfortunate objection, Mrs. Hanway-Harley was rendered
speechless. Then, as notice of Dorothy's white, cold obstinacy began to
dawn upon her, she went suddenly into lamentations. To think her child,
her only child, should deal her such a blow! Mrs. Hanway-Harley called
herself the most ill-treated of parents. She said her best and dearest
feelings had been trampled upon. In a shower of tears, and a cataract of
complaint, she bemoaned her dark, ungrateful destiny. At this, Dorothy's
tears began to flow, and the interview became hysterical.

Mrs. Hanway-Harley was the earlier to recover her balance. Drying her
eyes, she said:

"Disobedient child!"--this was also from the magazine--"since you will
not listen to the voice of love, since you will not listen to the voice
of reason, you shall listen to the voice of