"And she said it all off to me, quite beautiful," said Rose, who had stayed at home.
"And what does the child want to be doing? I won't have her go back to her books again, to worry her head into aching."
"No, that's not what she wants. Her notion is to run in and out and see to old Widow Long."
"Widow Long!" exclaimed the baker. "Why, she's got as slandering a tongue as any in the parish! Give the poor old soul a loaf or a sup of broth if you like, but I'll not have my girl running in and out to hear all the gossip of the place, and worse."
"I knew you would say so, Ambrose," returned Charlotte. "All the same, the child's thought shames me that I've never done anything for the poor old thing; and she won't harm me."
Ambrose chuckled a little. "I don't know but aunt likes a spice of gossip as much as her niece. 'Tis she tells us all the news."
"Well, I can get plenty of that in the shop, without going to Dame Long for it," said Charlotte, laughing. "I like the real article, genuine and unadulterated."
They were laughing at Aunt Charlotte's wit when Amy came in, and she looked from one to the other, afraid they were laughing at her project, and ready to be offended or hurt. She did not like it when her father said, "Look here, my girl, Aunt Charlotte says Dame Long's dish of tongue is too spicy for you, and she must have it for herself."
"I don't know what you mean, father," said Amy, nearly crying, "I didn't want it for that."
"No, you didn't, child," said Charlotte; "but come along here, I want you to help me dish up."