"Leave it to me," he said. "I will try to talk with her."
The talk didn't seem to go very well. I heard shouting that night, and in the morning my parents barely acknowledged me. If Father couldn't talk sense into my mother then things were much further out of hand than I had thought. I went to school that day distracted. I was reprimanded twice by my teachers for daydreaming. To make matters worse, George had just been told that his father was delaying their next journey so that George could come along and learn the business. He talked of little else all day. I had a headache by the end of the day.
I walked home and went up to the attic and sat there staring out the window and wishing I were anywhere else. George's little horse seemed to stare back at me and mock me. George was leaving,
