Maxwell says he has a pretty quick temper, but it's all over in a
minute," said Wilhelmina, half in jest and wholly in earnest.
As for me, I gave up going out at all, even to church. I fretted
and pined and lost my appetite and never wrote a line in my blank
book. Nancy was half frantic and insisted on dosing me with her
favorite patent pills. I took them meekly, because it is a waste
of time and energy to oppose Nancy, but, of course, they didn't
do me any good. My trouble was too deep-seated for pills to
cure. If ever a woman was punished for telling a lie I was that
woman. I stopped my subscription to the _Weekly Advocate_
because it still carried that wretched porous plaster
advertisement, and I couldn't bear to see it. If it hadn't been
for that I would never have thought of Fenwick for a name, and
all this trouble would have been averted.
One evening, when I was moping in my room, Nancy came up.
"There's a gentleman in the parlor asking for you, Miss
Charlotte."
My heart gave just one horrible bounce.
"What--sort of a gentleman, Nancy?" I faltered.
"I think it's that Fenwick man that there's been such a time
about," said Nancy, who didn't know anything about my imaginary
escapades, "and he looks to be mad clean through about something,
for such a scowl I never seen."
"Tell him I'll be down directly, Nancy," I said quite calmly.
As soon as Nancy had clumped downstairs again I put on my lace
fichu and put two hankies in my belt, for I thought I'd probably
need more than one.
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