"There they are, you see--Bobbie--and the Explanation. And if you ask
me, I think the Explanation explains."
Lady Niton put up her gold-rimmed glasses.
"She is not in the least pretty!" she said, with hasty venom, her old
hand shaking.
"No, but fetching--and a good girl. She worships her Bobbie, and she's
sending him away for a year."
"I won't allow it!" cried Lady Niton. "He sha'n't go."
Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
"These are domestic brawls--I decline them. Ah!" He turned to the
window, opening it wide. She did not move. He made a sign, and two of
the three persons who had just appeared on the lawn came running toward
the house. Diana loitered behind.
Lady Niton looked at the two young faces as they reached her side--the
mingling of laughter and anxiety in the girl's, of pride and
embarrassment in Bobbie's.
"You sha'n't go to Berlin!" she said to him, vehemently, as she just
allowed him to take her hand.
"Dear Lady Niton!--I must."
"You sha'n't!--I tell you! I've got you a place in London--a, thousand
times, better than your fool of an uncle could ever get you. Uncle,
indeed! Read that letter!" She tossed him one from her bag.
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