she immediately added.

"In answer to the letter?" I had made up my mind. "Nothing."

"And to his uncle?"

I was incisive. "Nothing."

"And to the boy himself?"

I was wonderful. "Nothing."

She gave with her apron a great wipe to her mouth. "Then I'll stand by you.
We'll see it out."

"We'll see it out!" I ardently echoed, giving her my hand to make
it a vow.

She held me there a moment, then whisked up her apron again with her
detached hand. "Would you mind, miss, if I used the freedom--"

"To kiss me? No!" I took the good creature in my arms and, after we
had embraced like sisters, felt still more fortified and indignant.

This, at all events, was for the time: a time so full that,
as I recall the way it went, it reminds me of all the art
I now need to make it a little distinct. What I look
back at with amazement is the situation I accepted.
I had undertaken, with my companion, to see it out, and I was
under a charm, apparently, that could smooth away the extent