“Some evil, I am sure, will grow out of it,” he would say, whenever allusion was in any way made to the subject of his wife’s intimacy with Mrs. Halloran.  “No one can touch pitch and not be defiled.”

“I really must blame you,” Mrs. Leland replied to a remark like this, “for your blind opposition to Mrs. Halloran.  The more I see of her, the better I like her.  She is a perfect lady.  So kind, so affable, so—­so”—­

Mr. Leland shook his head.

“The mere gloss of polite society,” he returned.  “There is no soundness in her heart.  We know that, for the tree is judged by its fruit.”

“We have seen no evil fruit,” said the wife.

“Others have, and we know that others have.—­Her conduct in the case of the Percys is notorious.”

“Common report is always exaggerated.”

“Though it usually has some foundation in truth.  But granting all the exaggeration and false judgment that usually appertain to common report, is it not wiser to act as if common report were true, until we know it to be false?”

But it was useless for Mr. Leland to talk.—­His wife was charmed with the fascinating neighbor, and would hear nothing against her.  Jane, too, had become intimate with Mary Halloran, a bold-faced girl, who spent half of her time in the street, and talked of little else but beaux and dress.  Jane was eighteen, and before her acquaintance with Mary, had been but little into company.  Her intimacy with Mary soon put new notions into her head.  She began to think more of dress, and scarcely a day passed that she did not go out with her very intimate and pleasant friend.  Mrs. Leland did not like this.  Much as she was pleased Mrs. Halloran, she never fancied the daughter a great deal, and would have been much better satisfied if the two young ladies had not become quite so intimate.

“Where are you going?” she said to Jane, who came down stairs dressed to go out, one morning.

“Mary and I are going to make some calls,” she replied.

“You were out making calls, yesterday, with Mary, and the day before also.  This is too great a waste of time, Jane.  I would rather see you at home more.”

“I don’t know why you should wish to confine me down to the house.  Mary Halloran goes and comes when she pleases.”

“Mary Halloran is in the street a great deal too much.  I am far from wishing to see you imitate her example.”

“But what harm is there in it, mother?”

“A great deal, Jane.  It gives idle habits, and makes the mind dissatisfied with the more sober duties of life.”

“I am too young for the sober duties of life,” said Jane, rather pertly.

“That is, doubtless, one of your friend Mary’s sentiments; and it is worthy of her.”

This was true, and Jane did not deny it.

“Go now,” said Mrs. Leland, with much sobriety of manner.  “But remember that I disapprove of this gadding about, and object to its continuance.  I should be very sorry to have your father know to what extent you are carrying it.”