So these old friends--Meriwether Clopton, and Miss Fanny Tomlin--considered it to be their duty, as it was their pleasure, to call on Lucy Lumsden in her trouble. They expected to find her in a state of collapse, but they found her walking about the house, apparently as calm as a June morning.
"Good-morning, Meriwether," she said pleasantly; "it is a treat indeed, and a rare one, to see you in this house. And here is Fanny! I am glad to see you, my dear. It is very good of you to come to an old woman who is in trouble. I think we are all in trouble together. No, don't sit here, my dear; the library is cooler, and you must be warm. Come into the library, Meriwether."
"Upon my word, you look twenty years younger," said Miss Fanny Tomlin.
"Do I, indeed? Then trouble must be good for me. Still, I don't appreciate it. I am an old woman, my dear, and all the years of my life I have had a contempt for those who fly into a rage, or lose their tempers. And now, look at me! Never in all your days have you seen a woman in such a rage as I have felt all day and still feel!"
"The idea!" exclaimed Miss Fanny. "Why, you look as cool as a cucumber."
"Yes, the idea!" echoed Mrs. Lumsden. "If I had those miserable creatures in my power, do you know what I would do? Do you know, Meriwether?"
"I can't imagine, Lucy," he replied gently. He saw that the apparent calmness of Gabriel's grandmother was simply the result of suppressed excitement.
"Well, I'll not tell you if you don't know." She seated herself, but rose immediately, and went to the window, where she stood looking out, and tapping gently on the pane with her fingers. She stood there only a short time. "You may imagine that I am nervous," she said, turning away from the window, "but I am not." She held out her hand to illustrate. It was frail, but firm. "No," she went on, "I am not nervous; I am simply furious. I know what you came for, my friends, and it is very kind of you; but it is useless. I love you both well, and I know what you would say. I have said such things to my friends, and thought I was performing a duty."
"Well, you know the old saying, Lucy," said Meriwether Clopton. "Misery loves company. We are all in the same boat, and it seems to be a leaky one. I have heard it said that a woman's wit is sometimes better than a man's wisdom, and, for my part, I have not come to see if you needed to be consoled, but to find out your views."