When the ladies rose, Judy took me aside, and said,—
"What does it all mean, Wynnie?"
"Just what you hear," I answered.
"You asked us, to have a triumph over me, you naughty thing!"
"Well—partly—if I am to be honest; but far more to make you do justice to
Miss Clare. You being my cousin, she had a right to that at my hands."
"Does Lady Bernard know as much about her as she seems?"
"She knows every thing about her, and visits her, too, in her very questionable abode. You see, Judy, a report may be a fact, and yet be untrue."
"I'm not going to be lectured by a chit like you. But I should like to have a little talk with Miss Clare."
"I will make you an opportunity."
I did so, and could not help overhearing a very pretty apology; to which Miss Clare replied, that she feared she only was to blame, inasmuch as she ought to have explained the peculiarity of her circumstances before accepting the engagement. At the time, it had not appeared to her necessary, she said; but now she would make a point of explaining before she accepted any fresh duty of the kind, for she saw it would be fairer to both parties. It was no wonder such an answer should entirely disarm cousin Judy, who forthwith begged she would, if she had no objection, resume her lessons with the children at the commencement of the next quarter.