suddenly, "I hate David Forsythe!" Gilbert Penny was obviously startled.
Caroline half rose, as if she had finished breakfast; but she sat down
again with an expression of determination. Howat looted about from his
removed place of being. "I do!" Myrtle repeated. "At first he seemed to
like--I mean I liked him, and then everything changed, got horrid. Some
one interfered." Resentment, suspicion, dominated her, she grew shrill
with anger. "I saw him making faces at Howat, as if he and Howat, as if
Howat had, well--"

"Don't generalize," said Howat coolly; "be particular."

"As if you had deliberately spoiled any chance, yes," she declared
defiantly, "any chance I had."

"That's ridiculous," Gilbert Penny declared. "What," he asked his wife,
"are they all driving at?" She professed herself equally puzzled. "Howat
would say nothing disadvantageous to young Forsythe. He knows what we
all hope." Caroline suddenly leaned forward, speaking in a level voice:
"This has nothing to do with Howat, but with me. I am going to tell you
at once, so that you can all say what you wish, get as angry as you
like, and then accept what--what had to be. David and I love each other;
we are going to be married."

Gilbert Penny's surprise slowly gave place to a dark tide suffusing his
countenance. "You and David," he half stuttered, "getting married--like
that." Myrtle was rigid in an indignation that left her momentarily
without speech. Mrs. Penny, Howat saw, drew into the slight remoteness
from which she watched the conflicts of her family. "I know I'm
fearfully bold, yes, indecent," Caroline went on, "and undutiful,
impertinent. I'm sorry, truly, for that. Perhaps you'll forgive me,