My mother rose. "With your leave, sister Corbet, we will withdraw," said she, assuming the chatelaine, as she well knew how. "I shall not justify my child till I hear from her all the circumstances of this unlucky affair. Nephew Andrew, I will thank you to order the pony."
"The pony—and for what?" asked my aunt, cooling down, as she always did when my mother took this tone.
"That I may withdraw to my own house, since I am so happy as to have one," replied my mother. "When this matter is cleared up, sister Corbet, you shall have all proper explanations and apologies. In the meantime, 'tis neither for your dignity or mine that I should remain longer under a roof where such language has been applied to me and mine. I thank you from my heart for your hospitality, but I can partake of it—no, not an hour longer."
My aunt, upon this, began to cry, and to retract what she had said.
"I did not mean you, sister d'Antin—and perhaps it was not so bad; but you see she does not deny that she had the book, and that Betty got it from her—and I know I am hasty when I am roused; and the French do eat frogs, for you told me yourself; and you said they were good—you know you did, sister d'Antin. And Betty is artful, I confess; but that does not make it right for Vevette to lend her bad books, nor for Andrew to look at me so, as if—and I am sure I am his own natural mother and not a stranger, and 'tis unknown the trouble I had in rearing him, because he was a May babe, and my mother said he would never be lucky."
"Mother and my aunt," said Andrew, in his grave, commanding tones, "will you be so good as to let this matter rest for to-night? It hath been made far too public already. Aunt, if I have ever done you any service, I beseech you to remain under my roof till to-morrow." (I never heard Andrew say my roof before.)
"Yes, do," said my aunt, who had cooled rapidly, as usual. "Indeed I regret that I was so hasty; and I will take back all I said about vipers and adders."
My mother suffered herself to be prevailed upon so far as to say she would remain till the time originally set, for her departure. Then she withdrew to her room, and I followed, like one going to execution. Once there she addressed me in a tone which I had never heard from her but once before, requiring me to give her a full account of this transaction. I fell down on my knees before her, and told her the whole story from beginning to end.
"How shall I believe you? You have already deceived me," said she sadly.
"Indeed, maman, I have now told you the truth," said I, weeping. "I only read the first poem in the book, and then I would go no farther. And I did not lend it to Betty. She took it from the room when you called me to look at the china, and I never could get it again, though I asked her for it ever so many times. Oh, maman, do believe me!"