“Very well,” she said. And she moved away from the man’s side.
The two old ladies pausing in their conversation heard Grey’s announcement and the answer Prudence made. Sarah Gurridge leaned towards her companion with a confidential movement of the head. The two grey heads came close together.
The school-ma’am whispered impressively––
|
“‘Maid who angers faithful swain Will shed more tears and know mere pain Than she who loves and loves in vain.’” |
Hephzibah laughed tolerantly. Sarah’s earnestness never failed to amuse her.
“My dear,” the girl’s mother murmured back, when her comfortable laugh had gurgled itself out, “young 62 folks must skit-skat and bicker, or where would be the making up? La, I’m sure when I was a girl I used to tweak my poor Silas’s nose for the love of making him angry––Silas had a long nose, my dear, as you may remember. Men hate to be tweaked, especially on their weak points. My Silas was always silly about his nose. And we never had less than half-an-hour’s making up. I wonder how Prudence has tweaked Mr. Grey––I can’t bring myself to call him Leslie, my dear.”
Prudence had reached her mother’s side. The two old heads parted with guilty suddenness.
“Oh, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Malling, “how you did startle me.”
“I’m sorry, mother,” the girl said, “but I wanted to tell you that Leslie is not coming to-night.” Prudence turned a mischievous face towards her lover.
Mrs. Malling wrinkled up her smooth forehead. She assumed an air of surprise.