“It wouldn’t be nice—it wouldn’t be delicate to let him into the
conspiracy. That must be entirely our affair, don’t you see? And I
don’t want you to take a single step without me. I don’t want you even
to discuss her with him. Will you? Because that will tempt you
further.”
That afternoon Kendricks came promptly to call, like the little gentleman
he was, and he was more satisfactory about Saratoga than he had been in
the morning even. Mrs. March catechised him, and she didn’t leave an
emotion of his unsearched by her vivid sympathy. She ended by saying—
“You must write a story about Saratoga. And I have got just the heroine
for you.”