A sharp ring of the door-bell interrupted further conversation, and Mr. Deane, bowing to the intruder, as such she seemed at that moment to be, bade Miss Evans good evening, and departed.
The caller was a gossiping woman, who kept many domestic fires alive with her fuel of scandalous reports.
“Dear me, Miss Evans,” she said, as soon as comfortably seated, “was n't that Mr. Deane? Yes, I thought so; but my eye-sight 'aint over good, and then he looked so sad-like; maybe he 'aint well,” and she looked inquiringly to Miss Evans, who replied,—
“I think he is in his usual health; a little worn, perhaps, with business. How is your family, Mrs. Turner?”
“O, tol'rable, thank ye. But Mr. Deane did n't say anything, did he, about his folks?
“His folks? What do you mean, Mrs. Turner?”
“Law me, I might as well tell as not, now I've said what I have. Why you see Miss Moses who nusses Mrs. Baker, was up ter Mrs. Brown's last night, and Mrs. Deane's hired gal was there, and she told Mrs. Brown's man that Mr. Deane and his wife had some pretty hard words together, and that her folks-her father and mother-was 'goin ter take her home.”
“Mrs. Turner, I have no interest in this gossip; we will change the subject if you please.”
“Lor, don't be 'fended; I only-I mean I meant no harm.”
“You may not; but this idle habit of retailing the sayings of others, is worse than folly. It's a great wrong to yourself and the individuals spoken of.”