"I am not going to have this any longer, Letty!" he said, decidedly, next morning, when Letty's pale cheeks and untasted breakfast showed the headache she would fain have concealed. "Agnes is as well as you, and stronger; and there is no sense in your wearing yourself out in doing her work."
"But, John—"
"But, Letty, I won't; and that is just all about it. If Agnes wished you to take Madge now and then while she went to church, or out to take the air, I should say nothing against it. Such things are all fair and proper between friends and relations,—not to say neighbours; but as to your holding and carrying that fractious baby till two o'clock, that her mother may figure at a ball, where, in my opinion, she has no business to be at all,—there is no sense nor reason in it. You need not disturb yourself," he added, smiling. "I take all the responsibility. Just say, when she asks you, that I have forbidden it."
And Letty did say so, the very next week, when Agnes wished to go to a concert. And Agnes wondered that people could be so selfish, and wondered what she should do, and wondered that Letty could say John was not tyrannical when he laid his commands on her in that way, and finally went over to tell her sorrows to Mrs. Van Horn. That lady exclaimed and sympathized and pitied; but she never offered to let her girl take care of Madge, as Agnes had hoped: so Agnes, for once, had to stay at home.
The next week she found another girl, not so promising in appearance as Sally, but stronger; and after that she felt herself at liberty to run abroad as much as she pleased.
Letty often wondered how she dared to leave the child; but the time was past when she could venture to remonstrate with her cousin.
One day, when Letty was very busy looking over her domestic affairs and putting them in perfect order, Mrs. Van Horn came in. The little parlour was occupied with various pieces of work; but Letty made room for her visitor, and sat down to entertain her. Mrs. Van Horn had something on her mind, and, after several hints and innuendoes, delivered herself to this effect:—
She thought Mrs. Caswell ought to know what people said about her. She had thought it her duty as a friend to come and tell her. Not that she believed it, of course,—she had told everybody so,—but—and here she stopped, and looked more mysterious than ever.
Letty was rather weak and nervous, and this sort of communication agitated her considerably. Her colour changed, and her hands trembled, as she begged Mrs. Van Horn to explain.
That lady, delighted to see the effect of her words, kept her auditor in suspense some time longer, as she declared that she would not hurt Mrs. Caswell's feelings for the world. It was very unpleasant for any one in her situation; she was rather sorry she had said any thing; but every one was talking—and here she made another pause.