to some extent numbed her. At this moment she was merely thinking,
quite dispassionately, what a singularly nasty little man he looked,
and wondering--not for the first time--what strange quality, invisible
to everybody else, it had been in him that had made her mother his
adoring slave during the whole of their married life.

Then her mind began to work actively once more. She was a Western girl,
and an insistence on freedom was the first article in her creed. A
great rush of anger filled her, that this man should set himself up to
dictate to her.

"Do you mean that you want me to marry this Prince?" she said.

"That's right."

"I won't do anything of the sort."

"Pshaw! Don't be foolish. You make me tired."

Betty's eye shone mutinously. Her cheeks were flushed, and her slim,
boyish figure quivered. Her chin, always determined, became a silent
Declaration of Independence.

"I won't," she said.

Aunt Marion, suspending operations on the sock, went on with tact at
the point where her brother's interruption had forced her to leave off.

"I'm sure he's a very nice young man. I have not seen him, but
everybody says so. You like him, Bennie, don't you?"