"Why not?" she asked, with some heat. "Phenie was a-readin' me a story, not so long ago, about a man, a lord or somethin' like, as married a miller's daughter. The name was 'The Secrit Marriage,' or thereabouts. I'd like to know ef she ain't as good as a miller's daughter, any time o' day?"
I said no more. "Against stupidity even the gods strive in vain."
A month later, perhaps, Mrs. Angel, whom I had not seen since the interview just related, came toiling up the stairs with her arms piled high with suggestive-looking packages, and beamingly and unceremoniously entered my sitting-room. With rather more than her customary ease of manner, she deposited herself and parcels upon the lounge, and exclaimed, pantingly:
"Wall! Phenie an' Columbus is goin' ter be married Sunday week!"
"Ah!" I responded, with a sympathetic thrill, "so they have made it up again?"
"Yes, indeed!" she answered, "they've done made it up. They was one time I was most afeard Columbus was goin' to back out, though. 'Twas after that time when he come down here after Phenie, an' found her a-goin' out 'long o' that Bureau gal an' that man as called hisself a gineral!"
"So you found out the character of Phenie's friend at last?" I said.
"Columbus, he found it out. I'll tell ye how 'twas. Ye see, him an' Phenie was a-havin' of it that night after they got home. They was in the front room, but they's right smart of a crack 'roun' the do', an' you kin hear right smart ef you sets up clos't enough," she explained, naïvely.