“Well, I really never could see any thing particular in her,” said the eldest Miss Matson. “Besides—you know what her grandfather is?” she added, sinking her voice to a confidential tone, and hastily glancing around to assure herself that the object of her remark was not nigh enough to overhear her.
“’Pon my honour, I never heard!” responded Captain Phinnikin.
“They do say—but mind, I will not assert it on my own authority,” continued Miss Matson,—“at the same time, I believe it is pretty well ascertained——”
“Oh! certainly—beyond all doubt,” exclaimed Miss Julia, tossing her head contemptuously.
“I never heard it contradicted!” added Miss Anna-Maria.
“What do they say the grandfather is?” demanded Captain Phinnikin.
Again did Miss Matson look anxiously around: then, lowering her voice to a whisper, and assuming as mysterious an air as possible, she said, “A hatter!”
“Oh! you naughty, gossiping girls!” cried Mrs. Matson, shaking her head with an affected deprecation of her daughters’ scandal-loving propensities, but in reality enjoying the tittle-tattle.
“Well, ma,” said Miss Julia, “I am sure there is no harm in telling the truth; and I thought that every one knew what Miss Brown’s grandfather was—just the same as it’s no secret about the Greens being related to a soap-boiler.”