k her head emphatically at me and walked off to her carriage.

I found Jenny in a fine rage as the result of Lady Aspenick's expression
of her views--which had apparently been nearly as frank to her as to me.
Yet she protested that she had behaved with the utmost wisdom and
meekness--for Margaret's sake.

"I stood it, Austin," she declared, with a little stamp of her foot.
"How I stood it I don't know, but I did. She lectured me--she told me I
ought to have been guided by her! She said I was going quite the wrong
way about it with the Institute and that she deeply regretted the
'scene' in Catsford. The scene! She threatened me with the parsons and
the Puritans!"

How very angry Jenny was! Parsons and Puritans!

"And ended up--yes, she dared to end up--by telling me I must send
Margaret away. She'll see more of Margaret than she thinks before she's
done with her!"

"And you were very meek and mild?"

"I know you don't believe it. But I was. I was absolutely civil and
thanked her for her kindness. But of course I said that I must judge for
myself--and that the question of Margaret lay absolutely outside the
bounds of discussion."

"To which Lady Aspenick----?"

"She got up and went. What did she say to you?"

"Much the same--that you were making it very difficult for her."

"I've gained more than I've lost in Catsford," Jenny declared
obstinately and confidently. Then her voice softened. "As for poor
little Margaret--it's not a question of my gain or my loss there. You do
know that?" She was appealing to me for a kind judgment.

"I'm beginning to understand that."

"I stand or fall with Margaret; or I fall--if only she stands. That's
final." She broke into a smile. "So, in spite of what you think, I drove
myself to be civil to Susie Aspenick. But let her wait a little! Send
Margaret away!" Jenny looked dangerous again.

Jenny could have forgiven the criticism of her Catsford
proceedings--though not over easily; the attempt to touch Margaret
rankled, and, if I mistook not, would rankle, sorely.

It is pleasant to record that Jenny's chivalrous devotion to her
"legacy" found appreciation elsewhere; it softened an opponent, and
stirred to enthusiasm one already inclined to be a friend.

I had a note from Alison: "I can't countenance her goings on in
Catsford--her courting of publicity and applause, her holidays and
picnics--no, nor--at present--her Institute either. If she is entitled
to come back at all,