If they don't look out, she
will break loose. I know her well, and there's strong character under
this storm a-top, if only some one could get at it. Damn it." Norman
grew forcible again. "Why can't I keep my silly eyes away from her, and
go off with the fellows. You see," continued Norman, still addressing
his patient double, "she is a rebel, and--pshaw, I dare say it is half
my fancy, but I hate that long moustached officer. I wish he would be
summoned to the front and be shot. O, I forgot, there's no war. Well,
then, I wish he would fall in love with any body but Mae. It must be
late. Ric didn't leave that little party very early, I'm sure, but I
can't sleep. I'll get down my Sismondi and read awhile. I wonder if that
child is feeling badly now. I half believe she is--but here's my book."
Yes, Mae was feeling badly, heart-brokenly, all alone in her room. After
a long, harrowing talk with Mrs. Jerrold, at the close of which she
had received commands never to go out alone in Rome, because it wasn't
proper, she had been allowed to depart for her own room.
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