And Betty had wrought it. He
knew that.
Had he only to do with Malcolm--or any man, for that matter--there
would have been no doubt of his course. He would have hustled out
Malcolm or any other man long before this, and there would have been an
end to it. But Betty had made it quite plain to him that she did not
purpose to leave, and, since he had had little experience with women,
he was decidedly at a loss to discover a way to deal with her. That he
could not rout her by force was certain, for he could not lay hands on
a woman in violence, and he was by no means certain that he wanted her
to leave, because if she did it was highly probable that he would never
get his hands on the money his father had left. Of course he could
search for the money, but there came to his mind now tales of treasure
that had never been recovered, and he was reluctant to take any
chances. On the other hand, he was facing the maddening prospect of
living for a year under the eyes of a determined young woman who was to
be the sole judge of his conduct. He was to become a probationer and
Betty was to watch his every move.
He wondered, making a wry face at the thought, whether she intended to
record his actions in a book, giving him marks of merit or demerit
according as the whim struck her? In that case she had probably
already placed a black mark against him, perhaps several.
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