"Mats," said Carlisle, apropos of nothing whatever, "have you ever heard people criticizing the Works--saying horrid things about conditions being unhealthy there, or anything of that sort?"
"Why, yes, dear, I have," said Mats at once, and sweetly. "Not very lately, though. I think there was an article in the paper about it, wasn't there, a month or two ago? Why?"
"What have you heard people say?" replied Carlisle.
"Well, I can't remember exactly, Cally, but it seems to me I heard them say the Government was going to have a new law about it, or something. Why?"
This last was a popular word with Mattie, whose mind in relation to her own sex was distinctly interrogatory. All evening, mostly by indirect methods, she had been examining Carlisle in regard to Mr. Canning, and his strange visit....
"Oh, nothing," said Carlisle, gently patting her face with a steaming cloth.
Mattie selected a hairbrush from her little spend-the-night kit.
"You know what perfect nuts it is to people," said she, "to think they have anything the least bit disagreeable on people they know."
"Isn't it?" replied Carlisle, with a repressed note of strong irritation. "Everybody has plenty of time to attend to everybody's business but their own."
Mattie glanced at her, wondering interestedly what had happened to Cally. However, she made no answer to the philosophic sarcasm, being now engaged in giving her hair one hundred and twenty-five brisk strokes before retiring, and not wishing to lose the count.