“Wouldn't she!” laughed the girl. “I wonder if you know much about my mother? But after that I think I'll be off to bed. I am rude, I know I am, but I never pretended to be anything else.”
This was fired back at them from the door, and then Missy was gone without saying good-night.
“She's not like her mother,” said Mrs. T. angrily; “no, that she isn't!”
“But why in the name of fortune go and tell her so?” John William blurted out. “I never knew anything like you, mother; on Christmas Eve, too!”
“I think,” said David gently, “that Missy is not quite herself. She has been very excitable all day, and I think it would have been better to have taken no notice of what she said. You should remember, my dear, that she is utterly unused to our climate, and that even to us these last few days have been very trying.”
Arabella was the only one who had nothing at all to say, either for Missy or against her. But she went to Missy's room a little later, and there she spoke out:
“You thought it was—Stanborough! I saw you did.”
“Then I did—for the moment. But it was very silly of me—I don't know what could have put him into my head, when I've settled him so finely for good and all!”
“God bless you, Missy! But—but do you think there is any fear of him coming back and walking right in like that?”
“Not the least. Still, if he did—if he did, mark you—I'd tackle him again as soon as look at him. So never you fear, my girl, you leave him to me.”