“I ask nothing, except the right to be with, and to serve you!” responded Rosa.

And she thought she spoke the whole truth for once.

CHAPTER XII.

Aunt Rachel waxes uncharitable.

“A Sly, artful, treacherous jade?” articulated Mrs. Sutton, energetically.  “I have no patience with her.  And they say she is so overjoyed at her conquest that she trumpets the engagement everywhere.  Such shameless carrying on I never heard of.  If she ever crosses my path I shall treat her to some wholesome truths.”

“What good would that do, aunt?” asked Mabel Dorrance, without raising her head from her sewing.  “And what has she done that should incense you or any one else against her?  She was free to choose a husband, and we have no right to cavil at her choice.  I hope she will be very happy.  I used to love her—­we loved each other very fondly once.  There are some excellent traits in Rosa’s character, and when she is once married she will be less volatile.”

“Don’t you believe it.  Her flightiness and insincerity are ingrain!  I believed in her once myself—­she had such beguiling ways, it was hard to disapprove of anything she said or did.  But I was secretly aware, all the time, that there was a radical defect in her composition.  A woman who has been engaged, or as good as engaged, to six or eight different men, cannot retain much purity of mind or strength of affection.  I heard you tell her yourself once that such unscrupulous flirtation and bandying of hearts were profane touches that rubbed the down from the peach.”

“That was the extravagant talk of a silly, romantic girl,” replied Mabel, with a smile that changed to a sigh before the sentence was finished.  “I was somewhat given to lecturing other people, in those days, upon subjects of which I knew little or nothing.  Nine men out of ten care little how roughly the peach has been rubbed, provided the flavor is not injured to their taste.  It is only once in a great while that you meet with one whose palate is so nice that he can detect the difference between fruit that has been hawked through the market and that just picked from the tree.  First love is a myth at which rational people laugh.”

“Perhaps so,” said Mrs. Sutton dubiously.

In view of the circumstances of Mabel’s marriage, she felt that it behooved her to be circumspect in condemnation of transferred affections.

“But that does not alter the fact of Rosa Tazewell’s infamous behavior to Alfred Branch and others of her beaux.  Isn’t the poor fellow drinking himself into his grave, all through his disappointment?  And here she is going to be as honored a wife as if she had never perjured herself, or ruined an honest, loving man’s prospects for life!”

Mabel went on with her work, and did not reply.