it was off. She asked, according to her habit when she met her daughter
alone, "Where is Mrs. Maynard?"

"Why do you always ask that, mother?" retorted Grace, with her growing
irritation in regard to her patient intensified by the recent interview.
"I can't be with her the whole time."

"I wish you could," said Mrs. Breen, with noncommittal suggestion.

Grace could not keep herself from demanding, "Why?" as her mother
expected, though she knew why too well.

"Because she wouldn't be in mischief then," returned Mrs. Breen.

"She's in mischief now!" cried the girl vehemently; "and it's my fault! I
did it. I sent her off to sail with that ridiculous Mr. Libby!"

"Why?" asked Mrs. Breen, in her turn, with unbroken tranquillity.

"Because I am a, fool, and I couldn't help him lie out of his engagement
with her."

"Did n't he want to go?"

"I don't know. Yes. They both wanted me to go with them. Simpletons! And
while she had gone up-stairs for her wraps I managed to make him
understand that I did n't wish her to go, either; and he ran down to his
boat, and came back with a story about its going to be rough, and looked
at me perfectly delighted, as if I should be pleased. Of course, then, I
made him take her."