"What have you to say, Vevette?" asked my mother.
I simply repeated the story just as it was.
"Can you deny that you taunted me that night with meeting Mr. Lovel?" asked Betty.
"I did not taunt you with meeting him, for I never knew for certain that you did meet him. A suspicion came into my mind, and in my anger I spoke it out."
Betty smiled superior.
"Well, all I can say is, that it was an unlucky day when you ever darkened my doors, and still more when you were betrothed to my son," said any aunt, who was one of those persons that say first and think afterward.
"Oh, mother!" said Margaret.
Andrew never spoke.
"Ay, and oh mother again!" retorted my aunt. "I say it was an unlucky day, and I will say so. It is she who has led my child astray and poisoned her mind with her play-books and her fine stories of London, to an innocent country maid who had no chance to learn aught of such wickedness. She has ruined any Betty, and she will ruin my son."
"Have no fears for your son, sister Corbet," said my mother, now fully roused. "The engagement between him and my daughter is from this moment at an end. I leave your house, nor will I or my daughter ever again enter its doors till you have taken back your words. Mr. Lovel, I will thank you to see that my horse and servant are at the door."