"He's out every afternoon, regularly. He's out evenings with his fiddle; home at four in the morning, he doesn't do that for nothing. I don't think he tells all he knows," concluded Mrs. Mangenborn with a significant wink of the eye, which brought her fat cheek very close to her eyebrow.
"Well," said Miss Husted with a sigh, "of course it's no business of mine where he goes and what he does, but—whatever it is, it's all right! That you can depend on, it is all right."
This was intended to be a rebuke to Mrs. Mangenborn, but it was entirely lost on that lady, for with the very next breath she said bluntly: "Why don't you ask him?"
Miss Husted set her lips firmly together, and this movement might have warned a less obtuse person.
"Why don't you ask him?" repeated Mrs. Mangenborn.
"Because," replied Miss Husted, with more temper than she had ever exhibited before to her friend, "because, Mrs. Mangenborn, it's none of my business!"
There was a slight pause.
"Not wishing to give you a short answer, my dear," supplemented Miss Husted, sorry that she had been compelled to take extreme measures to stay her friend's curiosity.
To her utter surprise Mrs. Mangenborn still persisted.
"Well, it is your business, in a sense," went on that lady. "This is your house, and it is your duty to see that it is conducted respectably!"