What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. His instinct was in the direction of considering his daughters his absolute property, bound to obey him, his to give away or his to keep to be a comfort in his declining years just as he thought fit. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. “A young man comes into life asking how best he may place himself,” Ramage had said; “a woman comes into life thinking instinctively how best she may give herself. Lord bless you marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good.
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