you, my dear?”

“Cat had stolen his pistol, and he placed himself between me and her.”

Mrs. Tenterchilt forgot for a moment the point of this story and considered only her youngest daughter. Her face became deathly white and she shook her head quickly. “I wish she were more like you, Bella. Why must she fight and shoot things? Why is Gulliver not calming her?”

“But was it not chivalrous of Roger? Catherine might just as easily have shot him without meaning to.”

“Roger is a dear boy, my little lady, and I do believe he loves you greatly, but let us keep this feeling a secret for a time.”

“Were you in love with anybody when you were ten, Mama?”

“No, Bella, but I shall not say that you ar...

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