Well, well? [_Breaking down and putting her handkerchief to her eyes._] Oh, I shall never forget the scene! I never shall.
Don't cry, Dinah! [_They all try to console her._]
Mamma, who is very delicate, went into violent hysterics and tore at the hearthrug with her teeth. But a day or two afterwards she grew a little calmer, and promised to write to Papa, who was with his ship at Malta.
Yes. Papa, you know, is Admiral Rankling. His ship, the "Pandora," has never run into anything, and so Papa is a very distinguished man.
He telegraphed home one terrible word--"Bosh!"
He ought to be struck into a Flying Dutchman!
The telegraphic rate from Malta necessitates abruptness, but I can never forgive the choice of such a phrase. But it decided our fate. Three weeks ago, when I was supposed to be selecting wools at Whiteley's, Reginald and I were secretly united at the Registry Office.
We declared we were much older than we really are, but, as Reginald said, trouble had aged us, so it wasn't a story. At the doors of the Registry Office we parted.
And when I reached home there was a letter from Papa ordering Mamma to have me locked up at once in a Boarding School; and here I am--torn from my husband, my letters opened by Miss Dyott, quite friendless and alone.
No, that you're not, Dinah. Listen to me! Miss Dyott is going out of town to-day, and I'm left in charge. I'm a poor governess, but playing jailer over bleeding hearts is not in my articles, and if your husband comes to Volumnia House and demands his wife, he doesn't go away without you--does he, young ladies?
No. We will do as we would be done by--won't we?
Yes! [_The street-door bell is heard, the girls cling to each other._]
[_Trembling._] Miss Dyott! [_Tyler is seen crossing the hall. Peggy runs to the window, and looks out._]
[_Sweetly._] Anything for us, Tyler dear?
[_Looking at the letters, which he guards with one arm._] One for Miss Dinah Ranklin'!
Oh! [_Snatching at her letter, which Tyler quickly slips into his pocket._]
My orders is to hand Miss Ranklin's letters to the missus. [_Handing a letter to Peggy._] Miss Hesslerigge.
Oh, look 'ere, here's--[_Dancing with delight._] Oh, crikey! this must be for _him!_
The Mystery! [_The Girls gather round Tyler and look over his shoulder._]