'Here she is—she can tell you herself,' I said; for Miss Tita now appeared on the threshold of the old woman's parlour. 'Have you got confidence, Miss Tita? Your aunt wants very much to know.'
'Not in her, not in her!' the younger lady declared, shaking her head with a dolefulness that was neither jocular nor affected. 'I don't know what to do with her; she has fits of horrid imprudence. She is so easily tired—and yet she has begun to roam—to drag herself about the house.' And she stood looking down at her immemorial companion with a sort of helpless wonder, as if all their years of familiarity had not made her perversities, on occasion, any more easy to follow.
'I know what I'm about. I'm not losing my mind. I daresay you would like to think so,' said Miss Bordereau, with a cynical little sigh.
'I don't suppose you came out here yourself. Miss Tita must have had to lend you a hand,' I interposed, with a pacifying intention.
'Oh, she insisted that we should push her; and when she insists!' said Miss Tita, in the same tone of apprehension; as if there were no knowing what service that she disapproved of her aunt might force her next to render.
'I have always got most things done I wanted, thank God! The people I have lived with have humoured me,' the old woman continued, speaking out of the gray ashes of her vanity.
'I suppose you mean that they have obeyed you.'
'Well, whatever it is, when they like you.'
'It's just because I like you that I want to resist,' said Miss Tita, with a nervous laugh.
'Oh, I suspect you'll bring Miss Bordereau up-
