The girl rose. She walked about the room excitedly. She began once, and stopped. She came and stood in front of Emily.
"Now look here, mother. I don't think you ought to ask me questions like that. As though you don't believe me. But if you'll stop all this fuss, I'll tell you the whole thing next week."
"What whole thing?"
"I'll tell you why he came to-night."
"Why don't you tell me now, Martha?"
"No. I'm not going to tell you now. I'll tell you next week. I'll tell you on Monday or Tuesday. It isn't anything to be ashamed of, mother." Martha spoke with dignity, reprovingly.
"I don't suppose it is."
"Then what makes you look at me like a thief? Why do you let dad swear at me and curse me?"
"That's just silly of you! He wasn't cursing you, and you know it. That's just his way."
"I'm tired of his way. I won't have him using my friends like that."