“You intended to say that perhaps Miss Monson had some experience in the law, and that it gave her a certain satisfaction to contend with its difficulties, in consequence of previous training. Am I not right?”
Anna would not answer in terms; but she gave a little nod in assent, colouring scarlet.
“I knew it; and I will be frank enough to own that Timms thinks the same thing. He has hinted as much as that; but the thing is impossible. You have only to look at her, to see that such a thing is impossible.”
Anna Updyke thought that almost anything of the sort might be possible to a female who was in the circumstances of the accused; this, however, she would not say, lest it might wound John’s feelings, for which she had all the tenderness of warm affection, and a woman’s self-denial. Had the case been reversed, it is by no means probable that her impulsive companion would have manifested the same forbearance on her account. John would have contended for victory, and pressed his adversary with all the arguments, facts and reasons he could muster, on such an occasion. Not so with the gentler and more thoughtful young woman who was now walking quietly, and a little sadly, at his side, instinct with all the gentleness, self-denial, and warm-hearted affection of her sex.
“No, it is worse than an absurdity”—resumed John—“it is cruel, to imagine anything of the sort of Miss ——By the way, Anna, do you know that a very singular thing occurred last evening, before I drove over to town, to be present at the wedding. You know Marie Mill?”
“Certainly—Marie Moulin, you should say.”
“Well, in answering one of her mistress’s questions, she said ‘oui, Madame.’”
“What would you have had her say?—‘non, Madame?’”
“But why Madame at all?—Why not Mademoiselle?”
“It would be very vulgar to say ‘Yes, Miss,’ in English.”