Three short days. And a right set-to there were betwixt him and Mr Jarvis, I can tell you. She said that in the note. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. “What can you do?” she asked.
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