"You needn't stand staring there!" said Mrs. Plunkett shortly to Marigold. "What's done can't be undone. You'd best sweep it up sharp."
Marigold flushed at the tone, but she at once knelt to obey; and James Todd, after looking slowly from one to the other, as if trying to understand the position of affairs, followed suit, with much deliberation.
"Take care, don't you cut your hands," he said to Marigold. "Them edges are worse than a knife. I say,—" in a lower tone, as Mrs. Plunkett moved off—"she wasn't here when I went away. Nor she don't seem improved by marrying. Why, she was as different—"
Marigold made no answer, and Todd was impressed with her silence. She carefully lifted away the larger pieces of broken china, gathered together the smaller bits, and swept into a dustpan all the finer remains. After which, Todd stood up to say good-bye, with a promise to reappear speedily, and Mrs. Plunkett shut the door behind him with an air of satisfaction.
"He won't come here often if I've my way," she said.
"Why, there's no harm in Todd. He's a nice young fellow. Not but what he might be more fond of work, but I always did like him," responded Plunkett. "One would ha' thought you was enjoying your talk with him. When we come in, you looked as if you was enjoying of it."
"Which, I wasn't! I just wished he'd make haste and go."
"He's seen a lot o' queer things abroad, no doubt. We'll get him to tell us all about it. As good as going to a beast show," laughed Plunkett.
