"Well, it must be very hard for her to do it all the time," said Martha; "if they would just ask me, I would go any time and assist them."
"Mrs. Edson is there considerable," remarked Jenny.
"I know she is; most too much for her credit," returned Miss Pinkerton; "if a man has a wife, he wants her at home sometimes."
"Why, Martha!" observed Mrs. Stanhope, mildly; "I never heard a reproachful word of Mrs. Edson breathed by any person."
"Neither did I," said Jenny, rising; "and if I do, I shan't believe it, for I think she is the dearest, sweetest creature in the world."
"With the exception of one Mr. Richard Giblet," remarked Miss Pinkerton, in a tone she conceived to be vastly witty and piquant.
Jenny's blush, as she bade good-morning, crowned the malicious maiden's triumph.
On this same morning, Mrs. Edson sat at her elegant rosewood piano, carelessly striking the ivory keys, when she heard a light footstep, and turning, beheld Col. Malcome advancing to her side. She was a little angry that he had entered unannounced, and her cheeks flushed, as she rather briefly bade him welcome.
"I beg your pardon for entering so informally," said he, at once interpreting the expression of her face. "Your doors were all ajar, and I saw no one to announce me."
"Had you rung, some one would have appeared," said Louise, with a slight curl of her red lip.