"Hush! hush!" said Mrs. Fairchild, in a low voice; "your papa and mamma will hear you."
"And I don't care if they do," said Miss Betsy: "they know what I think."
"What's that you are saying there, Miss Betsy?" said Mr. Crosbie.
"Oh, don't ask, brother," said Miss Crosbie; "I know it is something saucy, by my niece's looks."
"And why should you suppose I am saying anything saucy, aunt?" said Miss Betsy; "I am sure you are not accustomed to hear me say saucy things."
"Miss! Miss! be quiet!" said Mrs. Crosbie; for she was afraid Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild would think her daughter ill-behaved.
"What, mamma!" answered Miss Betsy, "am I to sit quietly and hear my aunt find fault with me before company—and for being impertinent, too, to my elders—as if I were a mere child?"
"Well, well—enough!" said Mr. Crosbie. "What is that pie, Mrs. Fairchild, in the middle of the table? I must have some, if you please."
Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were not sorry when dinner was over, and Mrs. Crosbie proposed that Mrs. Fairchild should show her the garden. Accordingly, the ladies and children got up, and left the gentlemen together; for Mr. Crosbie never stirred for some time after dinner. When Mrs. Crosbie had got into the garden, and had looked about her, she said:
"Ah, Mrs. Fairchild, how happy you are! Such a pretty house and garden!—such a kind husband!—such good children!" Then she sighed, and gave Mrs. Fairchild to understand that she was not so happy herself.