"As for that bull," she murmured, "the brute--to attack women!"
Barbara looked down at her.
"Granny," she said, "are you sure you're not shaken?"
Lady Casterley, whose lips were quivering, pressed them together very
hard.
"Not a b-b-bit."
"Don't you think," said Barbara, "that we had better go back, at
once--the other way?"
"Certainly not. There are no more bulls, I suppose, between us and this
woman?"
"But are you fit to see her?"
Lady Casterley passed her handkerchief over her lips, to remove their
quivering.
"Perfectly," she answered.
"Then, dear," said Barbara, "stand still a minute, while I dust you
behind."
This having been accomplished, they proceeded in the direction of Mrs.
Noel's cottage.
At sight of it, Lady Casterley said:
"I shall put my foot down. It's out of the question for a man of
Miltoun's prospects. I look forward to seeing him Prime Minister some
day." Hearing Barbara's voice murmuring above her, she paused: "What's
that you say?"
"I said: What is the use of our being what we are, if we can't love whom
we like?"
"Love!" said Lady Casterley; "I was talking of marriage."
"I am glad you admit the distinction, Granny dear."
"You are pleased to be sarcastic," said Lady Casterley. "Listen to me!
It's the greatest nonsense to suppose that people in our caste are free
to do as they please.
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