"There comes Antoinette ejaculating up the steps. Father, tell her I
do not want to see her, or anybody else. Don't let her come in
here!" cried Cornelia, with a nervous start, as voices were heard in
the passage.
Mr. Graham, who felt a certain awe of his willful child,
notwithstanding his equable temper, immediately withdrew. His wife
hastened into the room, and, with trembling lips touched her
daughter's cheek and brow, exclaiming: "Oh, my child, what a narrow escape! It is horrible to think of--
horrible!"
"Not at all, mother, seeing that nothing was hurt in the least. I
was sick, any way, as I told you. Don't you see Beulah sitting
there?"
Mrs. Graham welcomed her guest cordially.
"You have a great deal of presence of mind, I believe, Miss Beulah?
You are fortunate."
"I thanked my stars that Antoinette was not in the carriage; for
most certainly she would have made matters worse, by screaming like
an idiot and jumping out. Beulah taught me common sense," answered
Cornelia, unclasping a bracelet and tossing a handful of jewelry
across the room to her dressing table.
"You underrate yourself, my dear," said her mother, a little
proudly.
"Not at all. Humility, genuine or feigned, is not one of our family
traits. Mother, will you send up tea for us? We want a quiet time;
at least, I do, and Beulah will stay with me."
"But, my love, it is selfish to exclude the balance of the family.
Why not come down to the sitting room, where we can all be
together?" pleaded the mother.
"Because I prefer staying just where I am. Beulah, put down that
window, will you? Mary must think that I have been converted into a
Polar bear; and, mother, have some coal brought up. If there is any
truth in the metempsychosis of the Orient, I certainly was a palm
tree or a rhinoceros in the last stage of my existence." She
shivered, and wrapped a heavy shawl up to her very chin.
"May I come in?" asked Eugene, at the door.
"No; go and sing duets with Netta, and amuse yourself downstairs,"
said she shortly, while a frown darkened her face.
Nevertheless he came in, shook hands with Beulah, and, leaning over
the back of Cornelia's chair, asked tenderly: "How is my sister? I heard on the street that you were injured."
"Oh, I suppose the whole city will be bemoaning my tragic fate. I am
not at all hurt, Eugene."