"My dear Cathy, Miss Cunningham is perfectly welcome to know everything, as far as I am concerned," interrupted Queenie, somewhat distressed at this argument. These slight diversities of opinion were not unusual between Cathy and her brother; but Queenie had never before heard him express himself so strongly.
"I am glad you take such a sensible view of it," returned Garth, mollified in an instant. "Cathy is thoughtless with her tongue sometimes, and hurts people. Miss Cunningham always takes a lively interest in all that concerns Hepshaw; you see, their own parish is managed so admirably, Crossgill is quite a model village in every way, that she feels she has some authority in speaking."
"All meddlers have authority, self-imposed, of course," observed Cathy, sotto voce. Nevertheless, the remark reached Garth's ears.
"What makes you so hard on Dora this evening?" he asked, good-humoredly. "She deserves a good scolding, does she not, Miss Faith? You are generally such good friends; something has gone wrong to-night, eh, little one?"
He spoke coaxingly, but Cathy would not be induced to answer. "She was sick of Dora; she would have Dora on the brain if they did not change the subject," was her pettish reply, and, seeing her in this humor, Garth, like a wise man, dropped the subject. But the conversation made a painful impression on Queenie; in her heart she sided with Cathy. She thought Miss Cunningham's curiosity unjustifiable in the last degree. "What is it to her how long I remain in Church-Stile House and in Hepshaw?" she said proudly to herself.
This feeling was not mollified when, two days afterwards, Cathy informed her that Miss Cunningham had driven over in her little basket-carriage, and was at that moment talking to Langley in the drawing-room.
Queenie changed color a little as she put down her book.
"So soon!" she ejaculated.
"Yes; she has come to return our call, and to see Langley," with a meaning look, that made Queenie feel still more uncomfortable. "No; we need not go to her just yet; Langley will bring her out to us by-and-bye. I think I shall tell Susan to let us have some tea, it is so delightfully cool and shady under these trees."
"Wait a moment, Cathy," catching hold of her dress, as she brushed past her, on hospitable thoughts intent. "Tell me why you do not like Miss Cunningham."