"I'm afraid she likes him too much. And I'm afraid he likes her. They're not engaged yet, but I do think they soon will be, and I don't know what's to be done."
"He's an idle ne'er-do-well," said Nurse, folding up some clothes. "If Marigold marries him, she'll rue it all her life."
"I told her I'd heard that he sometimes took too much. I didn't say I'd heard it from you, Nurse."
"No,—best not. If Marigold's taken the bit between her teeth, you nor I can't stop her from running away. I've a mind—" Nurse stopped.
"Couldn't you speak to her, Nurse?"
"Well, I'll think about it. I'd sooner give a hint to mistress. That girl would be thrown away on such a fellow."
"Marigold told me not to interfere."
"Well,—don't," said Nurse, composedly. "You couldn't help my hearing all I'd heard, nor asking you about it. You're the younger, and it wouldn't be seemly for you to meddle. But if I choose to speak to mistress, I don't see who's to hinder. She does care for Marigold, and it would go to her heart if the girl did such a silly thing."
"Marigold has always seemed so sensible."
"So she may be, but if a girl takes a fancy to a man, it don't do to trust overmuch to sense," said Nurse, unconsciously echoing Mrs. Plunkett. "It's principles that's wanted. Marigold is a good girl, and she ought to feel she can't marry any man who isn't a good man."