I had to, of course. Then she said that would do,
and I might go to my room. And I went. And that's all I know about it,
except that she came up, after a little, and said for me not to talk
any more about it, to her, or to any one else; and to please try to
forget it.
I tried to tell her what I'd seen, and what I'd heard that wicked,
deep-dyed villain say; but she wouldn't let me. She shook her head,
and said, "Hush, hush, dear"; and that no good could come of talking
of it, and she wanted me to forget it. She was very sweet and very
gentle, and she smiled; but there were stern corners to her mouth,
even when the smile was there. And I guess she told him what was what.
Anyhow, I know they had quite a talk before she came up to me, for I
was watching at the window for him to go; and when he did go he
looked very red and cross, and he stalked away with a
never-will-I-darken-this-door-again kind of a step, just as far as I
could see him.
I don't know, of course, what will happen next, nor whether he'll ever
come back for Theresa; but I shouldn't think even _she_ would want
him, after this, if she found out.
And now where's _my_ love story coming in, I should like to know?
* * * * *
_Two days after Christmas_.
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