"I did," replied Agnes.
"I hope you are satisfied, aunt Compton?" cried the widow triumphantly.... "By her own confession, you perceive that I have told you nothing but the truth."
Agnes said nothing in reply to this, but loosening the strings of a silk bag which hung upon her arm, she took from it a small packet, and placed it in the hands of Miss Compton. "What have we got here?" said the spinster sharply.... "What do you give me this for, child?"
"I wish you to read what is there, if you please, aunt," said Agnes. Miss Compton laid it on the table before her, while she sought for her spectacles and adjusted them on her nose; but, while doing this, she kept her eyes keenly fixed upon the little packet, and not without reason, for, had she turned from it for a single instant, Mrs. Barnaby, who shrewdly suspected its contents, would infallibly have taken possession of it.
"My coachman and horses will get tired of all this, I think," said Miss Compton; "however, as you say, niece Martha, truth is truth, and must be sought after, even if it lies at the bottom of a well.... This is a letter, and directed to you, Miss Agnes; ... and this is the back of another, with some young-lady-like scrawling upon it.... Which am I to read first, pray?"
"The letter, aunt Betsy," replied Agnes.
"So be it," said the spinster with an air of great indifference; and drawing one of the candles towards her, and carefully snuffing it, she began clearly and deliberately reading aloud the letter already given, in which Mrs. Barnaby desired the presence of Agnes, and gave her instructions for her finding her way to the Fleet Prison. Having finished this, she replaced it quietly in its cover without saying a word, or even raising her eyes towards either of her companions; and taking the other paper, containing Agnes's reasons for non-compliance, read that through likewise, exactly in the same distinct tone, and replaced it with an equal absence of all commentary, in the cover. She then rose, and walking close up to her elder niece, who proffered not a word, looking in her face with a smile that must have been infinitely more provoking than the most violent indignation, said, "Niece Martha!... the last time I saw you, if I remember rightly, you offered me some of your old clothes; but now you offer me none, which I consider as the more unkind, because, if you dressed as smart as you are now while in prison, you must most certainly wear very fine things when you are free.... And so, as you are no longer the kind niece you used to be, I don't think I shall come to see you any more. As for this young lady here, it appears to me that you have not been severe enough with her, Mrs. Barnaby.... I'll see if I can't teach her to behave better.... In prison or out of prison ... if I bid her come, we shall see if she dare look about her for such plausible reasons for refusing as she has given you. If she does, I'll certainly send her back to you, Mrs. Barnaby. Ring the bell, naughty Agnes!"
The maid seemed to have been very near the door, for it instantly opened. "Tell my servants that I am coming," said the whimsical spinster, enacting the fine lady with excellent effect; and making a low, slow, and most ceremonious courtesy to the irritated, but perfectly overpowered Mrs. Barnaby, she made a sign to Agnes to precede her to the carriage, and left the room.