"Here's a beautiful example of honour and honesty for you!" said Margaret Dunscombe, at length.
"I think it is," observed John, quietly.
"An uncommon instance," said Mrs. Chauncey.
"I am glad everybody thinks so," said Margaret, sullenly; "I hope I shan't copy it, that's all."
"I think you are in no danger," said John, again.
"Very well!" said Margaret, who, between her desire of speaking and her desire of concealing her vexation, did not know what to do with herself; "everybody must judge for himself, I suppose; I've got enough of her, for my part."
"Where did you ever see her before?" said Isabel Hawthorn.
"Oh, she came up the river with us Mamma had to take care of her she was with us two days."
"And didn't you like her?"
"No, I guess I didn't! she was a perfect plague. All the day on board the steamboat she scarcely came near us; we couldn't pretend to keep sight of her; Mamma had to send her maid out to look after her, I don't know how many times. She scraped acquaintance with some strange man on board, and liked his company better than ours, for she stayed with him the whole blessed day, waking and sleeping; of course Mamma didn't like it at all. She didn't go to a single meal with us; you know, of course, that wasn't proper behaviour."