THE OLD MAID
You ought not to marry him— and yet all the arrangements are made; and the wedding-presents. . . There would be a scandal . . . it would kill Granny Lovell . . .”
Charlotte answered in a low voice: “There is no time. I must decide now.”
Delia pressed her hands against her breast. “I tell you I must think. I wish you would go home.—Or, no: stay here: your mother mustn’t see your eyes. Jim’s not coming home till late; you can wait in this room till I come back.” She had opened the wardrobe and was reaching up for a plain bonnet and heavy veil.
“Stay here? But where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I want to walk—to get the air. I think I want to be alone.” Feverishly, Delia unfolded her Paisley shawl, tied on bonnet and veil, thrust her
