“I believe you,” said John; “and I always had a great respect for you, ‘Mrs. Nemily.’”

“What are you laughing at, then?”

“Perhaps at the matronly dignity with which you have been laying down the law.”

“Is that all?  Oh, I always do that now I am married, John.”

“You don’t say so!  Well, Joe Swan has worked hard at improving himself; but though good has come out of it in the end for him, it is certainly a very queer affair.  Why, in the name of common sense, couldn’t Laura be contented with somebody in her own sphere?”

“I should like to know why Laura was so anxious the matter should be concealed from you,” said Emily.

“Most likely she remembers that Swan is in my employment, or she may also be ‘troubled with intuitions,’ and know by intuition what I think of her.”

“And how is Aunt Christie?” asked Emily, after little more talk concerning Joseph’s affairs.

“Well and happy; I do not believe it falls to the lot of any old woman to be happier in this oblate spheroid.  The manner in which she acts dragon over Miss C. is a joy to me, the only observer.  She always manages that we shall never meet excepting in her presence; when I go into the schoolroom to read prayers, I invariably find her there before me.  She insists, also, on presiding at all the schoolroom meals.  How she found out the state of things here I cannot tell, but I thankfully let her alone.  I never go out to smoke a cigar in the evening, and notice a stately female form stepping forth also, but Aunt Christie is sure to come briskly stumping in her wake, ready to join either her or me.”

“You don’t mean to imply anything?”

“Of course not! but you yourself, before you married, were often known to take my arm at flower-shows, &c., in order to escape from certain poor fellows who sighed in vain.”

“Yes, you were good about that; and you remind me of it, no doubt, in order to claim the like friendliness from me now the tables are turned.  John, the next time I take your arm in public it will be to extend my matronly countenance to those modest efforts of yours at escaping attention, for you know yourself to be quite unworthy of notice!”

“Just so; you express my precise feeling.”

“It is a pity you and Grand are so rich!”

“Why?  You do not insinuate, I hope, that I and my seven are merely eligible on that account.  Now, what are you looking at me for, with that little twist in your lips that always means mischief?”

“Because I like you, and I am afraid you are being spoilt, John.  I do so wish you had a nice wife.  I should? at least, if you wished it yourself.”

“A saving clause!  Have you and Fred discussed me, madam?”

“No, I declare that we have not.”

“I hope you have nobody to recommend, because I won’t have her!  I always particularly disliked red hair.”

“Now what makes you suppose I was thinking of any one who has red hair?”