“It’s not like to do us much good when we do see it,” observed Isel, “because it will be in their own language, no doubt.”
“But if it’s a witch-book, it’s like to have horoscopes and all manner of things in it!” said Anania, returning to the charge.
“Then it is not, for I have seen it,” said Flemild. “It is in a foreign language; but all in it beside words is only red lines ruled round the pages.”
“He read me a piece out of it,” added Derette; “and it was a pretty story about our Lady, and how she carried our Lord away when He was a baby, that the wicked King should not get hold of Him. It wasn’t bad at all, Cousin Anania. You are bad, to say such things when you don’t know they are true.”
“Hush, child!” said her mother.
“I’ll hush,” responded Derette, marching off to Agnes and the baby: “but it’s true, for all that.”
“That girl wants teaching manners,” commented Anania. “I really think it my duty, Aunt, to tell you that nearly every body that knows you is talking of that child’s forward manners and want of respect for her betters. You don’t hear such remarks made, but I do. She will be insufferable if the thing is not stopped.”
“Oh, well, stop it, then!” said Isel wearily, “only leave me in peace. I’m just that tired!—”
“I beg your pardon, Aunt! Derette is not my child. I have no right to correct her. If I had—”
Anania left it to be understood that the consequences would not be to her little cousin’s taste.