"What do you do, keeping our Carry out at night?"
Charlotte looked up in surprise. She was thinking of something else, or her answer might have been more cautious, for she was one of those who never willingly make mischief.
"I do not keep Caroline out. She is here of an evening now and then—not often."
Mrs. Mason laughed—a low derisive laugh of mockery. "I knew it was a falsehood when she told it me! There she goes out, night after night, night after night; so I set Mark on to her, for I couldn't keep her in, neither find out where she went to. Mark was in a passion—something had put him out, and Carry was frightened, for he had hold of her arm savage-like. 'I am at Charlotte East's of a night, Mark,' she said. 'I shall take no harm there.'"
Charlotte did not lift her eyes from her work. Mrs. Mason stood defiantly.
"Now, then! Where is it she gets to?"
"Why do you apply to me?" returned Charlotte. "I am not Caroline Mason's keeper."
"If you bain't her keeper, you be her adviser," retorted Mrs. Mason. "And that's worse."
"When I advise Caroline at all, I advise her for her good."
"My eyes are opened now, if they was blind before," continued Mrs. Mason, apostrophizing in no gentle terms the offending Caroline. "Who gave Carry that there shawl?—who gave, her that there fine gown?—who gave her that gold brooch, with a stone in it 'twixt red and yaller, and a naked Cupid in white aflying on it? 'A nice brooch you've got there, miss,' says I to her. 'Yes,' says she, 'they call 'em cameons.' 'And where did you get it, pray?' says I. 'And that's my business,' answers she. Next there was a neck-scarf, green and lavender, with yaller fringe at its ends, as deep as my forefinger. 'You're running up a tidy score at Bankes's, my lady,' says I. 'I shan't come to you to pay for it,' says she. 'No,' thinks I to myself, 'but you be living in our house, and you may bring Mark into trouble over it,' for he's a soft-hearted gander at times. So down I goes to Bankes's place last night. 'Just turn to the debt-book, young man,' says I to the gentleman behind the counter—it were the one with the dark hair—'and tell me how much is owed by Caroline Mason.' 'Come to settle it?' asks he. 'Maybe, and maybe not,' says I. 'I wants my question answered, whether or no.' Are you listening, Charlotte East?"