Alas! but I was just the one who could and did know everything about the matter. As I think of it now, it is a marvel to me that mother should have guessed nothing at all of what was really going on; but it was too evident that she did not. I suppose her mind was so fixed upon one thing that she thought of nothing else. After all, it is the way with us all.
"Am I to understand that you have been talking nonsense to the squire, then, Margaret?" asked she, in her most dignified manner.
It was not in me to tell a lie.
"I told the squire that Joyce and Frank were engaged," said I, "if that's talking nonsense."
I did not say it crossly. I think my fits of fiery temper were becoming less frequent, but I said it without wincing, although I knew what mother's feelings would be. She sat down in a despairing kind of manner, and drew in her breath, rather than let it out, in a long sigh.
"Engaged!" ejaculated she at last, with a withering accent of scorn.
"Well, it's the truth," insisted I, doggedly.
"No, it's not the truth, Margaret," replied mother, emphatically. "You may choose to consider them engaged, but I don't. And what's more, Joyce don't. I'm thankful to say I've one daughter who always had a grain of good-feeling and respect towards her elders and betters. Your sister never considered herself engaged to the captain."
"They were to be engaged if they were of the same mind in a year," said I. "Well, they are of the same mind so far, so it's practically the same thing."
"I don't think so," said mother, in a conclusive sort of voice. "But I don't need to discuss the matter with you. I must acquaint Squire Broderick that he has been misinformed. And meanwhile I'll trouble you to keep yourself to yourself, and not discuss things that don't concern you with people outside the family."