“What!” Mrs. Winser almost screamed. “That onery hussy! ’Reldy Winser, be you a-tellin’ me the truth?”
“Yes, maw. He took her to the dance up at Canemah las’ night, an’ she told me about it this mornin’!”
“The deceitful jade. Smiled sweet as honey at me when she went by. You’d of thought sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth. I answered her ’s short as lard pie-crust—I’m glad of it now. Has he took her any place else?”
“He took her walkin’ at noontime. Stepped right up when she was standin’ alongside o’ me an’ never looked at me, an’ ast her—right out loud so’s all of ’em could hear, too.”
“Well, he’d ought to be ashamed of hisself! After bein’ your stiddy comp’ny for more’n a year—well onto two years—an’ a-lettin’ all of us think he was serious!”
“He never said he was, maw.”
“He never said he was, aigh? ’Reldy Winser, you ain’t got enough spunk to keep a chicken alive, let alone a woman! ‘He never said he was,’ aigh? Well, ain’t he been a-comin’ here three nights a week nigh onto two year, an’ a-takin’ you every place, an’ never a-lookin’ at any other girl? An’ didn’t he give you an amyfist ring las’ Christmas, an’ a reel garnet pin on your birthday? An’ didn’t he come here one evenin’, a-laffin’ an’ a-actin’ up foolish in a great way an’ holler out—‘Hello, maw Winser?’ Now, don’t you go a-tellin’ me he never meant anything serious.”
“Well, he never said so,” said the girl, stubbornly.
“I don’t care if he never said so. He acted so. Why, for pity’s sake! You’ve got a grease-spot on your dress. I never see you with a grease-spot before—you’re so tidy. How’d you get it on?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”