"That is all in a piece with the rest of Judith's stinginess," she observed sneeringly. "I know only too well why she speaks of being thankful. Were I to regain my wonted strength, there would naturally be less nourishing food required and fewer doctor's bills. Oh! I only wish I could honestly say I feel a daily increase of health; but, alas! the very thought of being a heavy burden and viewed in the light of a constant nuisance helps to weaken and keep me low."
At this point Nellie drew Winnie towards the window and tried to engage her in conversation; while Aunt Debby, lowering her voice, muttered, audibly enough, however, for the girls to hear, "Don't make a fool of yourself, Meg, and talk such utter rubbish."
The invalid's rage increased, and she was about to make some rejoinder, when Miss Latimer interposed. "Hush, Margaret," said the quiet, gentle voice; "for my sake do not speak so before the children. You know perfectly well, dear, you are wilfully misinterpreting my words. I am only too happy to be able to gladden your life in any way."
But the invalid refused to be pacified.
"Ah! I understand you, Judith. You do not wish to have your true character exposed to the public. It suits you to pose as the saint abroad, I suppose, and—" but here Miss Latimer interrupted her.
"Margaret," she replied firmly, "you must either be silent or leave the room. I cannot listen to such conversation in the presence of our guest; and if you refuse to comply one way or the other, I shall be obliged to send the girls into my study."
"Oh no! not at all," returned Aunt Meg, her voice suddenly assuming the most plaintive, martyr-like tone; "the house does not belong to me.—Debby, will you assist me to my bedroom? and—no, Judith, I could not think of troubling you; but perhaps Nellie would help her poor aunt for once."
Now all this time Winnie had been enjoying the tragic scene immensely, and shaking inwardly with suppressed laughter, greatly to Nellie's distress.
"Oh, be quiet, Win; she will hear you," whispered the girl hurriedly, as a low ripple of laughter was hastily smothered by a mock cough. But the warning came too late. Aunt Meg caught the choking sound and in a moment the saintly expression on her face gave place to one of intense rage and indignation. This sudden transformation was too much for Winnie's risible faculties. The whole affair struck her in such a comical light that she lost all control over herself, and, with a wild burst of stifled laughter fled hastily from the parlour to Nellie's bedroom, where that young lady quickly followed.
"Close the door—close the door, Nell!" gasped Winnie, holding her handkerchief to her mouth and vainly endeavouring to suppress the laughter. "I know it's dreadfully wicked to behave in this manner, but I can't help myself," and off the child went again; while Nellie, unable to resist, joined in the merry peal. When both stopped at length, the tears were running down their cheeks, at the sight of which Winnie nearly repeated the performance. "This is awful," she panted, wiping her eyes and fanning her hot cheeks violently; "but when I begin to laugh I must just continue till I have emptied all the laughter out of me: then I am all right. No, Nellie, do not go away yet; wait till I am quite calm."