The scolding had been so bitter, and impassioned, that Nancy's humility had at last given way, and as, with heightened colour and shining eyes, she seemed inclined to protest and expostulate, the enemy brought heavier guns to bear.
"Is it true?" demanded Mrs. Jenkins, sitting Buddha-like, with folded arms, "that you write to young men?"
"Yes," replied Nancy, "I do."
"She couldn't deny it!" broke in Mrs. Taylor; "I've seen the letters myself, lying upon the hall table."
"And you smoke cigarettes up in your own room," she added.
"Yes, occasionally," admitted the sinner.
"And waste the electric light, reading in bed," resumed Mrs. Jenkins, raising her voice with each accusation. "Mrs. Taylor saw the light under your door after eleven o'clock at night!"
"I do read in bed,—I've no time to read in the day," answered the girl defiantly.
"Keep your temper, miss!—that is not the way to speak to me," shouted her aunt, in an angry voice.
"No indeed, darling," chimed in Mrs. Taylor, "and after all you have done for her—taken her in, when she was a penniless orphan, and——"