"Oh, don't be vexed! Nothing, my dear, but your own worldly wisdom,
which came to the rescue in the nick of time, as I always knew it
would." Mrs Martyn laughed.
The girl had pulled the hood of her coat over her head to protect it
from the rain. She let it slip back, and it showed her face grave.
"Why must you all talk of my worldly wisdom!" she exclaimed. "Am I so
hateful that you can't give me credit for a good impulse?"
"Oh, I think you have impulses--it was no doubt an impulse which landed
you in the entanglement to which I was referring--but then, happily, you
retract in time. Recollect, you can't do this all your life. I wish
you were safely married."
Anne drew a deep breath, then laughed.
"When I am, the somebody, whoever he is, will have to sweep me away like
a whirlwind--"
"Why: What do you mean?"
"I can't stand the hesitation, the thinking about it. I invariably
begin to repent, and if _he_ hesitates--he is lost."
Mrs Martyn opened her eyes roundly.
"So that is your theory? I hardly thought you owned one."
Anne went on as if she had not spoken.
"I mean to marry, and it appears that I have not the power of falling in
love. If I take the leap I must do it at a gallop. Now do you
understand?"
"A little. This last man, did he represent a whirlwind? My dear, you
let it go too far with him, and he could not be expected, poor fellow,
to see the absurdity as we all saw it."
Anne's eyes darkened.
"There was no absurdity. If I had cared a little more, I would have
married him."
"If he had happened to have twenty thousand a year instead of one, you
mean. No, Anne, no. Nothing short of a brilliant marriage will satisfy
you."
Anne looked as if she were going to reply, but checked herself, and
turned her head in another direction. Mrs Martyn yawned.