Part 2
Her aunt came to meet her outside Canongate, and, being a little
confused between what was official and what was merely a
rebellious slight upon our national justice, found herself
involved in a triumphal procession to the Vindicator Vegetarian
Restaurant, and was specifically and personally cheered by a
small, shabby crowd outside that rendezvous. They decided quite
audibly, "She's an Old Dear, anyhow. Voting wouldn't do no 'arm
to 'er." She was on the very verge of a vegetarian meal before
she recovered her head again. Obeying some fine instinct, she
had come to the prison in a dark veil, but she had pushed this up
to kiss Ann Veronica and never drawn it down again. Eggs were
procured for her, and she sat out the subsequent emotions and
eloquence with the dignity becoming an injured lady of good
family. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she
had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure;
there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled
things at Ann Veronica's lodgings, they reached home in the early
afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet
voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears.
"Dreadful women, my dear!" said Miss Stanley. "And some of them
quite pretty and well dressed. No need to do such things. We
must never let your father know we went. Why ever did you let me
get into that wagonette?"
"I thought we had to," said Ann Veronica, who had also been a
little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. "It
was very tiring."
"We will have some tea in the drawing-room as soon as ever we
can--and I will take my things off. I don't think I shall ever
care for this bonnet again. We'll have some buttered toast.
Your poor cheeks are quite sunken and hollow. . . .
