"What a day!" sobbed Aunt Laura as they walked home in the dusk. "What a disgrace! What a scandal!"
"Allan Burnley has only himself to blame," said Aunt Elizabeth. "He has let Ilse do absolutely as she pleases all her life. She was never taught any self-control. All her life she had done exactly as she wanted to do whenever the whim took her. No sense of responsibility whatever."
"But if she loved Perry Miller," pleaded Laura.
"Why did she promise to marry Teddy Kent then? And treat him like this? No, you need make no excuses for Ilse. Fancy a Burnley going to Stovepipe Town for a husband.
"Some one will have to see about sending the presents back," moaned Laura. "I locked the door of the room where they were. One never knows—at such a time—"
Emily found herself alone in her room at last—too dazed, stricken, exhausted, to feel much of anything. A huge, round, striped ball unrolled itself on her bed and opened wide pink jaws.
"Daff," said Emily wearily, "you're the only thing in the world that stays put."
She had a nasty sleepless night with a brief dawn slumber. From which she wakened to a new world where everything had to be readjusted. And she felt too tired to care for readjustment.