She once more hid her face in Abby’s lap, raising it again to add: “So you see—!”
Abby thought that she did, but she only said, stroking the golden head on her knee: “But what is there in all this to cast you into agitation? Anyone would suppose that your uncle had already refused his consent, and had threatened you both with dire penalties into the bargain!”
“Oh!” breathed Fanny, looking eagerly up at her. “Do you mean that you think he won’t refuse it?”
“Oh, no!” said Abby. “I am very sure that he will! And although I have no very high opinion of his judgment I give him credit for not being such a niddicock as to accept the first offer made to him for your hand! A pretty guardian he would be if he allowed you to become riveted before your first season! Yes, I know that sets up all your bristles, my darling, and makes you ready to pull caps with me, but I beg you won’t! Your uncle may dream of a splendid alliance for you, but you know that I don’t! I only dream of a happy one.”
“I know—oh, I know!” Fanny declared. “And so you will support me! Best of my aunts, say that you will!”
“Why, yes, if you can convince me that your first love will also be your last love!”
“But I have told you!” Fanny said, sitting back on her heels, and staring at her in rising indignation. “I could never love anyone as I love Stacy! Good God, how can you—you!—talk like that to me? I know—my aunt told me!—how my grandfather repulsed the man you loved! And you’ve never loved another, and—and your life was ruined!”