But she still went on talking such intolerable stuff—her sister helping her with appropriate fictions coined for the occasion—that I thought it necessary to say something in my own justification.
"What humbug all this is!" I exclaimed. "If Mr. Weston's road happened to be the same as mine for a few yards, and if he chose to exchange a word or two in passing, what is there so remarkable in that? I assure you I never spoke to him before; except once."
"Where? where? and when," cried they eagerly.
"In Nancy's cottage."
"Ah ha! you've met him there have you?" exclaimed Rosalie, with exultant laughter. "Ah! now Matilda, I've found out why she's so fond of going to Nancy Brown's! she goes there to flirt with Mr. Weston!"
"Really that is not worth contradicting!. . .I only saw him there once, I tell you. . .and how could I know he was coming?"
Irritated as I was at their foolish mirth and vexatious imputations, the uneasiness did not continue long: when they had had their laugh out, they returned again to the Captain and
K 5
