think that is the prettiest thing in the world. Mamma had, has, grey eyes and...' Her description trailed off. She was conscious of Pauline stiffening beside her and a piercing intensity in her blue eyes.
'Cousin Lanice, I wish to begin at the beginning—perfectly honestly with you. I want you to know that I have heard—all.'
'About—Mamma?'
'Yes.'
There was a long pause, and Lanice knew that Pauline was tactfully avoiding a direct question, waiting for Lanice to speak of her own volition. She could not. She drew her breath in with a trembling sigh and pressed her lace handkerchief against her mouth. The pause grew, and when at last Lanice flung her words into the hiatus they echoed and gained momentous weight.
'It is the most terrible thing in the world—, hideous.'
'What?'
'Our lower natures. Mamma's got the upper hand and—destroyed her. I almost wish it really had killed her. And I am determined to live always on the higher, the highest plane.'
'Yes, yes, Lanice. I can see, in spite of all these absurd fashionable clothes that you affect, that you are really a Mind. I can see...'
Already Lanice regretted her burst of confidence, and drew back somewhat sulkily into her corner of the barouche. She interrupted with a catch of heartbreak in her voice. 'How can I love her any more?
