Poynsett's own house, in your husband's
absence."
"Thank you for your solicitude," said Cecil, dropping in her
envelope the instant the obstructive hand was removed, and going on
her way with dignified self-possession; while Rosamond, in a tumult
of indignation, which made her scarcely comprehensible, rushed up to
her husband at his writing, and poured out her story.
Clio advocating female supremacy in Mrs. Poynsett's own house,
without notice to her! Should she be warned in time to stop the
letters? Should Raymond be written to? Rosamond was for both,
Julius for neither. He said that either way would begin a system
that could never be forgiven; and that they had better consider
themselves as practically at the Rectory, and not interfere.
"How can you be so cold-blooded?" cried she.
"I do not want to do worse harm. My mother will learn what is to
happen sooner or later; and then she can put a stop to it in any way
she chooses."
"I wish she would send in Mrs. Crabtree with her tawse!" said
Rosamond. "But is it right by Raymond to let his wife bring this
Yankee muse to talk her nonsense in his very rooms?"
"You have argued with her?"
"Or with a block--a stock--a stone!" raved Rosamond.
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