"Oh, but, please--" I began.
She stopped helping herself to marmalade and looked at me. She and I
were alone; the Professor and the boys were all at the college.
"But?" she said. "What is it, dear?"
"I don't want to go."
"I am sorry, but we have very little time to lose. I have ordered the
carriage to be here at ten o'clock."
"But--" I said, faltering somewhat in my speech, for her manner was
beginning to tell on me. I was struggling and struggling against it,
but struggling as the swimmer does who knows that time and tide are
against him.
"Yes?" she said.
"I want to go for a walk. I hate driving."
"To walk on such a day, Rachel? I should think you would be glad to
have the comfort of our carriage."
She was always careful never to call anything hers; she always said
"ours."