I should have handled him severely."
"He would have died of it!" Isabel exclaimed. "Not of the
severity, but of the publicity."
"Well, I should have liked to kill him a little. And I should have
delighted to do your uncle, who seems to me a much nobler type- the
American faithful still. He's a grand old man; I don't see how he
can object to my paying him honour."
Isabel looked at her companion in much wonderment; it struck her
as strange that a nature in which she found so much to esteem should
break down so in spots. "My poor Henrietta," she said, "you've no
sense of privacy."
Henrietta coloured deeply, and for a moment her brilliant eyes
were suffused, while Isabel found her more than ever inconsequent.
"You do me great injustice," said Miss Stackpole with dignity. "I've
never written a word about myself!"
"I'm very sure of that; but it seems to me one should be modest
for others also!"
"Ah, that's very good!" cried Henrietta, seizing her pen again.
"Just let me make a note of it and I'll put it in somewhere." She
was a thoroughly good-natured woman, and half an hour later she was in
as cheerful a mood as should have been looked for in a
newspaper-lady in want of matter.
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