"But I intended to have Amy," answered Miss Lucretia, in almost as firm a voice, but putting herself at a disadvantage at once by her slip of the past tense.
"Yes, I know you did. You wrote me all about it. It was exceedingly kind and good of you to think of such a thing, but, of course, it was quite out of the question. As I told you when I wrote, we intend to take her."
"Didn't you get my second letter?"
"Yes, and I saw by that you did not quite understand mine to you. I wrote in a hurry, and I suppose I did not make myself clear."
Constantia Dalrymple was under the impression that she was the most truthful of women.
"You made yourself perfectly clear," answered Lucretia, with a quiet dignity which was not usual with her. "But before you spoke of taking the child, I had made up my mind to do so. I have spoken to Fanny about it, and she is perfectly willing to accept the extra economies we shall have to practise, and any trouble Amy will give her. Of course, I shall take charge of her myself."
"How good of Fanny! I have always thought she must have enough to do with the whole work of your house, and she works a good deal in the garden, too, does she not?"
Miss Lucretia looked a trifle uncomfortable.
"I think Fanny will enjoy having a young life about the house," she replied, rather hurriedly; "just as I shall myself."
Constantia smiled. It was not exactly a nice smile, but perhaps she did not know that.