Mrs. Creddle shook her head, her hand on her heart—for she was a stout woman and upset by her tussle with the elements. "You may be sure that it was something that wouldn't keep," she said at last. Then she burst forth: "Carrie, your uncle has been to Mr. Wilson! He's been and told him that if he ever catches you together again he'll break a stick over his back. He lost a couple of hours this morning, and he went and told him. Now he's gone to his work, and I come on here."
"What!" gasped Caroline, her eyes black in a face as white as death. "Uncle's dared to insult me by doing a thing like that? What made him do it?"
"He was at the Buffaloes last night, and when they came away he heard one man say to another that you was Wilson's fancy lady——" She paused and added in a low tone: "They said you'd been stopping out all night."
"Uncle knows I didn't," said Caroline, beginning to tremble. "What beasts men are! Didn't uncle tell them?"
"Oh yes; he told 'em right enough. But he come home in a fine rage, I can tell you. He said he wasn't going to have no more of it: and I believe he would have gone straight to Miss Temple—only she has always behaved very decent to us, and he didn't like to make mischief, seeing she is so set on the feller."
"Why didn't uncle come to me?" said Caroline. "Why didn't you make him, aunt?"
Mrs. Creddle shook her head. "When you know as much about men as I do——"
"But what was his reason?" asked Caroline.
"He said it was no good saying anything to you, because when a lass gets feller-fond there's no doing nothing with her. He said he couldn't use the strap to you now, but he wasn't going to have any lass belonging to him talked about in that way."
There was a moment's silence. "Did uncle tell you what Mr. Wilson said?" Then she threw up her head. "But I expect he threatened to go for uncle."