Meantime Aunt Charlotte had passed the hours fuming.  To her, Austin’s extraordinary behaviour was absolutely unaccountable, except on the hypothesis that he was not responsible for his actions.  Her rage was beyond control.  That the boy should have had the unheard-of audacity to lock her up in her own bedroom in order to gratify some mad whim, and so have upset her plans for the entire day, was an outrage impossible to forgive.  If he was not out of his mind he ought to be, for there was no other excuse for him that she could think of.  What was to be done with such a boy?  He was too old to be whipped, too young to be sent to college, too delicate to be placed under restraint.  But she would let him feel the full force of her indignation when he returned.  He should apologise, he should eat his fill of humble pie, he should beg for mercy on his knees.  She had put up with a good deal, but this last escapade was not to be overlooked.  Even Martha, when she came in to lay the cloth for lunch, could think of nothing to say in extenuation of his offence.

It was certainly two hours before her excitement allowed her to sit down and begin to knit.  Even then—­and naturally enough—­while she was musing the fire burned.  It never occurred to her to reflect that there must have been some reason for Austin’s extraordinary prank, and that the first thing to be done was to discover what that was.  She was too angry to take this obvious fact into consideration, and so, when Austin at last appeared, his eyes full of suppressed excitement and his forehead bathed in sweat, her pent-up wrath found vent and she flamed out at him in a rage.

For some minutes Austin stood quite silent while she stormed.  If it made her feel better to storm, well, let her do it.  Half-a-dozen times she demanded what he meant by his behaviour, and how he dared, and whether he had suddenly gone crazy, and then went on storming without waiting for his reply.  Once, when he opened his mouth to speak, she sharply told him to shut it again.  It was clear, even to Martha, that if Austin’s conduct had been inexplicable, his aunt’s was utterly absurd.

“You’ve asked me several times what made me lock you up this morning,” he said at last, when she paused for breath, “and each time you’ve refused to let me answer you.  That’s not very reasonable, you know.  Now I’ve got something to tell you, but if you want to do any more raving please do it at once and get it over, and then I’ll have my turn.”

“Will you go to your room this instant and stay there?” cried Aunt Charlotte, pointing to the door.