"I've known it for two whole days, an' never whispered it to a livin' soul!" she added, proud of this achievement in reticence.
"My! it's a wonder you didn't explode." Maggie's voice somewhat relieved the tension. The narrator paid no heed.
"Now I guess you won't believe me, but mind you, I seen that fellow before he ever came here. It was when I was in Toronto that fall, visitin' Maria, an' you'd never guess where I seen him, if you was to try from now to the crack o' doom!"
She resumed her sewing with the most aggravating coolness.
"Drunk in the street," suggested Maggie.
"Maggie, it's awful to talk about a minister like that!" cried her mother, weakening her reproof with a laugh.
"Where in the world was it, 'Liza?"
Miss Cotton resumed her oratorical attitude. "Well, mind you, I never knew myself that I'd ever clapped eyes on him, till night before last, but his face puzzled the senses out o' me ever since he came here. Only I'd heard so much about what old McAlpine looked like, that I thought it was because he looked like him. But if I've told Mrs. Fraser once, I've told her a dozen times that——"
"Oh, go on with your yarn!" Maggie's dish-cloth was waving impatiently.
"Well, you mind that fall I went to the Exhibition an' stayed with Maria till near Christmas? My, the sights I did see that time! You girls ought to take a trip to the city now, why——"