But, of course, Miss Grizzel made no such reply. Nothing less than a miracle could have made her answer Griselda otherwise than as she did. Like Dorcas, for an instant, she was utterly "flabbergasted," if you
know what that means. For she was really quite an old lady, you know, and sensible as she was, things upset her much more easily than when she was younger.
Naughty Griselda saw her uneasiness, and enjoyed it.
"Playing with a boy!" exclaimed Miss Grizzel. "A boy in my grounds, and you, my niece, to have played with him!"
"Yes," said Griselda coolly, "and I want to play with him again."
"Griselda," said her aunt, "I am too astonished to say more at present. Go to bed."
"Why should I go to bed? It is not my bedtime," cried Griselda, blazing up. "What have I done to be sent to bed as if I were in disgrace?"
"Go to bed," repeated Miss Grizzel. "I will speak to you to-morrow."
"You are very unfair and unjust," said Griselda, starting up from her chair. "That's all the good of being honest and telling everything. I might have played with the little
boy every day for a month and you would never have known, if I hadn't told you."