"
Here Theresa stayed the torrent of her eloquence and looked up, to find
Damaris' eyes fixed upon her in incredulous wonder.
"Have you nothing to say, dear, in answer to my proposition?" she
enquired, with a suddenly anxious, edgy little laugh.
"I am afraid I have a lot to say, some of which you won't like."
"How so?" Theresa cried, still playfully. "You must see how natural and
reasonable my suggestion is." Then becoming admonitory. "You should learn
to think a little more of others.--It is a bad habit to offer opposition
simply for opposition's sake."
"I do not oppose you for the mere pleasure of opposing," Damaris began,
determined her voice should not shake. "But I'm sorry to say, I can't
agree to the horses being used to draw a loaded brake. I could not ask
Patch. He would refuse and be quite right in refusing. It's not their
work--nor his work either."
She leaned forward, trying to speak civilly and gently.
"There are some things you don't quite understand about the stables, or
about the servants--the things which can't be done, which it's impossible
to ask.
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