“I didn’t,” said Hannah. “I felt all along that she was a snake in the grass.”
“She was kind, even though she meant to marry father; and perhaps another girl would have guessed.”
“Sakes! why should you guess? You ain’t that sort; you’re an innocent child, and don’t know the wicked ways of wicked, knowing, designing females. Why ever should you guess?”
“Well, I didn’t; but, now I look back, I see—”
“Oh, we all see when the light comes,” said Hannah; “there’s nought in that.”
“But, Hannah, she is not bad. She is good, and if she chose to marry father—”
“My word, we’ll have no more of that!” said Hannah. “I’m sorry I gave you that drop of soup. The boys will have to eat the mutton boiled up with water from the pump.”
“Oh Hannah, will you never understand?”
“I don’t understand you, Miss Dumps; but then I never did.”
“Well, I am going to tell the boys, and I’m as unhappy as I can be; but I don’t see the use of fighting. I’ll try to do what’s right. I’ll try to. I don’t love her. I might have loved her if she had just remained my friend.”