Miss Dorinda was speechless at these fearsome revelations; but Miss Priscilla was rarely affected that way.
“Lavinia Lovell,” she exclaimed, with flashing eyes, “hush this talk at once! I am more ashamed of you than I can say. Hush! do not speak another word.”
“No,” said Ladybird, “I won’t; but truly, Aunt Priscilla, it’s a great scheme. Martha knew a lady who got a lovely husband that way, and—”
“Silence, Lavinia!”
“Yes, ’m. And he married her, and they lived happy ever after. Martha said so.”
“Lavinia, be quiet.”
“Yes, ’m. And so you see, aunty, if we could just get a real nice husband for Stella, instead of that horrid Charley Hayes, we’d be doing as we’d be done by, and our neighbor as ourselves.”
“Lavinia,” began Miss Priscilla again.
“Now, Priscilla,” said her sister, “there’s no use talking to her like that. She doesn’t understand. Ladybird,” Aunt Dorinda went on gently, “these institutions you speak of, and which Martha had no right to mention to you—”
“I’ll attend to Martha,” said Miss Priscilla, with a competent snap of her eyes.