“Only to-night.”
Ellen looked at her niece as if, had she dared, she would have torn her in pieces. “I s’pose it never entered your head it was a mean advantage for you to take when I was gone,” she said shrilly. “You wouldn’t ’a’ dared do it if I’d been here.”
“I’m not so sure.”
The fearless response was infuriating to Ellen.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” she shouted, bringing her clenched hand down on the table with such force that every dish rattled. “You ain’t to repeat this night’s performance! If you ain’t got pride enough not to go hob-nobbin’ with my enemies, I’ll forbid it for good an’ all—forbid it, do you hear? I ain’t a-goin’——”
Something in the quiet dignity of the girl before her arrested her tongue. Her eye traveled over the white, rain-drenched figure. 134 Then the corners of her mouth twitched and curved upward.
“So Martin Howe saw you home, did he?” she observed sarcastically. “Much good his comin’ did! Had you tramped ten miles you couldn’t ’a’ got much wetter. I guess he needs some lessons in totin’ ladies round same’s he does in most everything else. I always said he didn’t have no manners—the puppy!”