28/81 The baroness paled: it was a terrible stroke of language to come from her daughter. She said sternly, "There is no answer to that. We were born nobles, let us die farmers: only permit me to die first." "Forgive me, mother," said Rose, kneeling. "I was wrong; it is for me to obey you, not to dictate. I speak no more." And, after kissing her mother and Josephine, she crept away, but she left her words sticking in both their consciences. |