I did not say anything—indeed, Lotty allowed me no opportunity—and uncle's answer, when at last spoken, had a tone of gentle reproof and sorrow in it which went to my heart.
"Neither your aunt nor I thought you would venture beyond the garden after the warning you had received, it being already late when you went out; happily, therefore, we were saved the uneasiness your long absence would certainly have occasioned us."
"Oh yes! as it has turned out it was indeed very lucky you didn't know, uncle," rejoined Charlotte, quite cheerfully, feeling, I could see, exceedingly well satisfied that matters were, by her good management, seemingly drifting into so smooth a channel. "Mechie's and my greatest uneasiness all the while was the fear that you and auntie would find out our absence from the garden and be distressed by it; wasn't it, Mechie?"
"Ye—s," I answered rather reluctantly, remembering Charlotte's utter indifference on that very point, but not knowing at the moment what to say.
Hurrying on, Charlotte still talking in a vindicating style, we reached the balcony, and were soon in aunt's presence. She, who was as yet unconscious of our delinquency and believed we had only been sitting too late in the garden, dismissed us at once to our bed-room to take off our damp clothes before tea, which, she said, had been delayed some time by our absence.
"Now, Mechie, don't you say anything, but let me explain the whole business to aunt, and I'll make it smooth and right with her, as I did with uncle," Charlotte said while we were performing our hasty toilet. "But if you begin any of your blundering accounts, you will only do mischief. So now mind what I say, and leave it with me."
"I was not aware I was addicted to giving 'blundering accounts' of anything, Lotty," I answered, feeling rather hurt at such an imputation. "A simple statement of facts is all that the case requires, and in my opinion admits of—"
"That's all you know about it," interrupted Charlotte, contemptuously. "However, it doesn't matter what you think so long as you keep silent," she added, quickly. "So now are you ready?—for I am." Saying which, she left the room, and I hastily followed.
During our absence uncle had told of our misadventure, as described to him by Charlotte, and I was not surprised, though much grieved, to see a vexed, grave expression in my aunt's kind face as we came in.