“Of course there isn’t, ma, dear,” said Fin; “and it’s very indecent of him to come as he does, and so soon after Richard’s misfortune; but I know how it all was—Aunt Matty did it.”
“Aunt Matty did it, my dear?”
“Yes, ma. Wrote to Captain Vanleigh at his club, and told him all about how pa said poor Richard was not to be mentioned in the house, and how we were all brought up to town for change.”
“I don’t think Aunt Matty would do anything so foolish, my dear,” said mamma.
“Then how came they to call as soon as we had been up two days?” said Fin. “Aunt Matty would do anything she thought was for our welfare, even if it was to poison us.”
“Oh, Fin, my dear!”
“Well, I can’t help it, ma, dear; she is so tiresome. Aunt Matty is so good; I’m glad I’m not, for it does make you so miserable and uncharitable. Oh, ma, darling, what a dreadfully wicked little woman you must be!”
“Oh, my dear!”
“I’m sure Aunt Matty thinks you are. I often see her looking painfully righteous at you when you are reading the newspaper or a story, while she is studying ‘Falling Leaves from the Tree of Life,’ or ‘The Daily Dredge.’”
“My dear Fin, don’t talk so,” said Lady Rea. “Aunt Matty means all for the best.”