“I’m glad you realize what a serious matter a theft can be, my dear boy,” said Aunt Lavvy, stretching out a plump hand for the fruit-dish, “but I don’t want you to believe, though I’ve forgiven you personally, that either for my own sake or for the sake of the clerk at the Bank, I can do anything else but give Mr. Fennimore a clear, straightforward explanation, this evening, of what has happened. Honor Rose, look at this lovely plum your Aunt Lavvy is getting ready for you.” But intention and time were clearly stated at last. “Nina, d’you want my handkerchief?” proposed Lottie. “Oh no, you’re laughing--I thought you were crying!” “She is crying,” William announced, with a certain stolid exuberance. Nina, in fact, was in hysterics. [XII] OUTSIDE the dining-room door, Ursula and Hal became aware of each other--separately fled from the turmoil. They hesitated, self-conscious after what had passed. “I suppose that sort of thing’s not dangerous? She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Hal jerked his head in the direction of Nina’s sobs. “Oh Lord, yes. Some girls--not Nina’s kind, though--often get hysterical.” “Do they?” Perhaps Hal wished that boys did, too. He walked slowly away upstairs. And Ursula, giving him time to disappear, rushed for her room, banged the door behind her and bolted it, all in one swift movement, as though she were desperately in escape from the ugliness she had left in the dining-room: Aunt Lavvy and Miss Roberts and Grace crowding round Nina’s noisy agitation, admonishing her, thrusting forward remedies; Miss Roberts making futile dabs and sprinkles with the water-jug; Stanley trying to catch hold of Nina’s wrists and saying with a stern note of authority the while: “You _must_ be quiet. You _must_ be quiet”--and, aside: “The one way to treat hysterics--if you’d only leave her to me!” Her mother upbraiding her father for having brought about the scene; Lottie’s shrill: “May I fetch your salts, Aunt Lavvy? May I? Let me, or would you rather I didn’t?” Honor Rose frightened, and in tears; Mr. Maxwell’s: “Can’t you keep that kid of yours out of the way, Grace, when she’s not wanted?”... The smell of roast beef.... A sudden clamour and concentration of hatred.