This conversation took place on the day following the Baron's last eventful call. Poor Mrs. Willoughby was driven to desperation, and lay awake all night, trying to think of some plan to baffle the enemy, but was unsuccessful; and so she tried once more to have some influence over Minnie by a remonstrance as sharp as she could give. "He's an American savage. I believe he's an Indian." "I'm sure I don't see any thing savage in him. He's as gentle and as kind as he can be. And he's so awfully fond of me." "Think how he burst in here, forcing his way in, and taking possession of the house. And then poor dear aunty! Oh, how she _was_ shocked and horrified!" "It's because he is so _awfully_ fond of me, and was so perfectly _crazy_ to see me." "And then, just as I was beginning to persuade him to go away quietly, to think of you coming down!" "Well, I couldn't bear to have him so sad, when he saved my life, and so I just thought I'd show myself, so as to put him at ease." "A pretty way to show yourself--to let a great, horrid man treat you so." "Well, that's what they _all_ do," said Minnie, plaintively. "I'm sure _I_ can't help it." "Oh dear! was there ever such a child! Why, Minnie darling, you must know that such things are very, very ill-bred, and very, very indelicate and unrefined. And then, think how he came forcing himself upon us when we were driving. Couldn't he see that he wasn't wanted? No, he's a savage. And then, how he kept giving us all a history of his life. Every body could hear him, and people stared so that it was really quite shocking." "Oh, that's because he is so very, very frank. He has none of the deceit of society, you know, Kitty darling." "Deceit of society! I should think not. Only think how he acted yesterday--forcing his way in and rushing up stairs. Why, it's actually quite frightful. He's like a madman. We will have to keep all the doors locked, and send for the police. Why, do you know, Ethel says that he was here before, running about and shouting in the same way: 'Min!' 'Min!' 'Min!'--that's what the horrid wretch calls you --'Min! it's me.' 'Come, Min!'" At this Minnie burst into a peal of merry, musical laughter, and laughed on till the tears came to her eyes. Her sister looked more disgusted than ever. "He's such a boy," said Minnie; "he's just like a boy. He's so _aw_fully funny. If I'm a child, he's a big boy, and the awfullest, funniest boy I ever saw. And then he's _so_ fond of me. Why, he worships me. Oh, it's awfully nice." "A boy! A beast, you mean--a horrid savage. What _can_ I do? I must send for a policeman. I'll certainly have the doors all locked. And then we'll all be prisoners." "Well, then, it'll all be your own fault, for _I_ don't want to have any doors locked." "Oh dear!" sighed her sister. "Well, I don't. And I think you're very unkind." "Why, you silly child, he'd come here some day, carry you off, and make you marry him."