"Can't you see, Nelly," replied John, with irritation, "that this Bryant
woman's article practically accuses you of risking lives to gratify a whim
of vanity?"
"Why, John Burke, how can you say such a thing?" exclaimed Aunt Frank,
overhearing his words and as usual answering only the last half dozen.
"Risking lives! Poor Nelly!"
"I didn't say it," John patiently explained; "but other people--"
"Nobody else will talk about Nelly's vanity. Why, she hasn't a particle.
As for the papers, I won't have one in the house--"
"Except the _Evening Post_?" suggested Aunt Marcia.
"Which Cadge says isn't a newspaper," I contributed.
"--so we needn't care what they say."
I was ready to laugh at John's discomfiture, but the possible truth of his
words struck me, and I cried out:
"People won't really believe I did it on purpose, whatever the papers
say--that I went there just to be looked at! Oh, that would be horrible!
Horrible!"
"Of course not," John said with curt inconsistency to bring me comfort;
but I had a reply more sincere--a fleeting glance only, but it said: "The
Queen can do no wrong.
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