ought to have known that it would never do.'

At half-past ten, Louise was still sitting out of doors in the dark.
Emmeline, wishing to lock up for the night, went to summon her
troublesome guest.

'Hadn't you better come in?'

'Yes. But I think you are very unkind, Mrs. Mumford.'

'Miss Derrick, I really can't do anything but leave you alone when
you are in such an unpleasant hum our.'

'But that's just what you _oughtn't_ to do. When I'm left alone I
sulk, and that's bad for all of us. If you would just get angry and
give me what I deserve, it would be all over very soon.'

'You are always talking about "nice" people. Nice people don't have
scenes of that kind.'

'No, I suppose not. And I'm very sorry, and if you'll let me beg
your pardon--. There, and we might have made it up hours ago. I
won't ask you to tell me what you think of Mr. Cobb. I've written
him the kind of letter his impudence deserves.'

'Very well. We won't talk of it any more. And if you _could_ be a
little quieter in your manners, Louise--'

'I will, I promise I will I Let me say good-night to Mr. Mumford.'