192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. Lucy was silent. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. “Hi. His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him. She was nearly too giddy still to answer him. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. “Ann Veronica,” he said. Just one thing more. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. He spent a good deal more money and time than he could afford upon the little room at the top of the house, in producing new lapidary apparatus and new microscopic accessories and in rubbing down slices of rock to a transparent thinness and mounting them in a beautiful and dignified manner.
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