_Miss Garnett_, rising and seizing Miss Ramsey's hands: "Oh, Isobel!
But you will be equal to it! Oh! Oh!"
_Miss Ramsey_, with state: "Why are you going, Esther? Sit down."
_Miss Garnett_: "If I only _could_ stay! If I could hide under the
sofa, or behind the screen! Isn't it wonderful--providential--his
coming at the very instant? Oh, Isobel!" She clasps her friend
convulsively, and after a moment's resistance Miss Ramsey yields to
her emotion, and they hide their faces in each other's neck, and
strangle their hysteric laughter. They try to regain their composure,
and then abandon the effort with a shuddering delight in the
perfection of the incident. "What shall you do? Shall you trust to
inspiration? Shall you make him show his hand first, and then act? Or
shall you tell him at once that you know all, and-- Or no, of course
you can't do that. He's not supposed to know that you know. Oh, I can
imagine the freezing hauteur that you'll receive him with, and the icy
indifference you'll let him understand that he isn't a _persona grata_
with! If I were only as tall as you! He isn't as tall himself, and you
can tower over him. Don't sit down, or bend, or anything; just stand
with your head up, and glance carelessly at him under your lashes as
if nobody was there! Then it will gradually dawn upon him that you
know everything, and he'll simply go through the floor." They take
some ecstatic turns about the room, Miss Ramsey waltzing as gentleman.
She abruptly frees herself.
_Miss Ramsey_: "No. It can't be as tacit as all that. There must be
something explicit. As you say, I must _do_ something to cure him of
his fancy--his perfidy--and make him glad to go back to her."
_Miss Garnett_: "Yes! Do you think he deserves it?"
_Miss Ramsey_: "I've no wish to punish him."
_Miss Garnett_: "How noble you are! I don't wonder he adores you. _I_
should. But you won't find it so easy. You must do something drastic.
It _is_ drastic, isn't it? or do I mean static? One of those things
when you simply crush a person. But now I must go. How I should like
to listen at the door! We must kiss each other very quietly, and I
must slip out-- Oh, you dear! How I long to know what you'll do! But it
will be perfect, whatever it is. You always _did_ do perfect things."
They knit their fingers together in parting. "On second thoughts I
won't kiss you. It might unman you, and you need all your strength.
Unman isn't the word, exactly, but you can't say ungirl, can you? It
would be ridiculous. Though girls are as brave as men when it comes to
duty. Good-by, dear!" She catches Miss Ramsey about the neck, and
pressing her lips silently to her cheek, runs out. Miss Ramsey rings
and the maid appears.