come," said poor Mrs. Daintry, whose voice had failed below her breath.
"Do you mean that he goes to see Pauline Mesh?"
"I'm afraid so, every day."
"Well, my dear, what 's the harm?" Miss Daintry asked. "He can 't hurt her by not marrying her."
Mrs. Daintry stared; she was amazed at her sisterin-law's tone. "But it makes one suppose that all winter, for so many weeks, it has been for her that he has gone!" and the image of the tête-à-tête in which she had found them immured that day, rose again before her; she could interpret it now.
"You wanted some one; why may not Pauline have served?"
Mrs. Daintry was silent, with the same expanded eyes. "Lucretia, it is not right!"
"My dear Susan, you are touching," Lucretia said.
Mrs. Daintry went on without heeding her. "It appears that people are talking about it; they have noticed it for ever so long. Joanna never hears anything, or she would have told me. The children are too much. I have been the last to know."
"I knew it a month ago," said Miss Daintry, smiling.
"And you never told me?"
"I knew that you wanted to detain him. Pauline will detain him a year."
Mrs. Daintry gathered herself together. "Not a
