“Aunt Isel wasn’t so far out,” said Stephen, helping himself to a second wedge of pie.
“And Franna?”
Anania was really concerned on that point. She found Stephen very useful, and his wages, most of which he gave her, more than paid for his board. If he were to marry and set up house for himself, it would deprive her of the means to obtain sundry fashionable frivolities wherein her soul delighted. Stephen was quite aware of these facts, which put an amusing edge on his determination to keep the truth from the inquisitive gossip.
“Franna?” he repeated. “Did you say she thought I’d gone after squirrels? because I’ve brought ne’er a one.”
“No, stupid! She said you’d gone a-courting, and I want to know who.”
“You must ask Franna that, not me. I did not say so.”
“You’ll say nothing, and that’s the worst of signs. When folks won’t answer a reasonable question, ten to one they’ve been in some mischief.”
“I haven’t finished the pie.”
“Much you’ll tell me when you have!”
“Oh, I’ll answer any reasonable question,” said Stephen, with a slight emphasis on the adjective.