Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, page 89 by Various Authors
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rned in her eyes.
"Oh, that's impossible too, is it?" she said quietly. "We'll see."
Mrs. Blake quailed, but murmured something about her "authority."
"Oh yes," was the calm reply. "You might lock me up. Try it: I think I should get out. Make a fuss and ruin Horace and me. That you can do, but keep us apart you can't."
"You don't know, you can't know, what it is you talk of doing, or you couldn't stand there without blushing."
"Very likely not," said Lottie. "But since I know enough to do it--"
"You are a wicked, wilful child."
"Wicked? Perhaps. Yes, I think I am wicked. I'm a child, I know. Help me, mother, for I love him!"
The argument was prolonged, but the end could not be doubtful. Mrs. Blake could scold and bluster, but Lottie was determined. The mother was in bondage to Mrs. Grundy: the daughter played the trump card of her utter recklessness and won the game.
Having yielded, Mrs. Blake threw herself heart and soul into the scheme. She announced that painful recollections made Fordborough impossible as a place of residence, that Lottie was looking ill, and that they both required a thorough change. She dropped judiciously disagreeable remarks about her stepson till Addie was up in arms, and said that her mother and Lottie might go where they liked, but she should go to her aunt, Miss Blake, till Oliver, who was on his way, came home. Then Mrs. Blake shut up her house and went quietly off to Folkestone: Horace was to start from Dover in rather more than a fortnight's time.
[Illustration: "DO YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT I HAVE SAID?"--Page 66.]
After that the course was clear. Horace found out that he was worse, and must put off his departure for a week or ten days. Then, when the time originally fixed arrived, he said that he was better and would start at once. Naturally, Mrs. James was not ready, and he discovered that the house was intolerable with her dressmakers and packing, that he must break the journey somewhere, and that