'But, come sit down, my dear,' cried Mary; 'no ceremony, you know, among friends and equals, you know; and you and I have been mighty familiar, you know, before now. The last time we met you called me _woman_, you know--yes, "woman!" says you--and I have not forgotten it, I assure you,' she added with a sort of loud hysterical laugh, and a look of the most determined malice. 'Come, come, my dear Montgomery,' said Langley, 'you must forget and forgive;--I dare say Miss Mowbray, that is to say Mrs Berrendale, did not mean--' 'What should you know about the matter, Lang.?' replied Mary; 'I wish you would mind your own business, and let me talk to my dumb friend here.--Well, I suppose you are quite surprised to see how smart I am!--seeing as how I once overheard you say to Glenthingymy, "How very plain Mary is!" though, to be sure, it was never a barrel the better herring, and 'twas the kettle in my mind calling the pot--Heh, Lang.?' Here was the clue to the inveterate dislike which this unhappy girl had conceived against Adeline. So true is it that little wounds inflicted on the self-love are never forgotten or forgiven, and that it is safer to censure the morals of acquaintances than to ridicule them on their dress, or laugh at a defect in their person. Adeline, indeed, did not mean that her observation should be overheard by the object of it,--still she was hated: but many persons make mortifying remarks purposely, and yet wonder that they have enemies! Motionless and almost lifeless Adeline continued to stand and to listen, and Mary went on-- 'Well, but I thank you for one thing. You taught me that marriage was all nonsense, you know; and so, thought I, Miss Mowbray is a learned lady, she must know best, and so I followed your example--that's all, you know.' This dreadful information roused the feelings of Adeline even to phrensy, and with a shriek of anguish she seized her hand, and conjured her by all her hopes of mercy to retract what she had said, and not to let her depart with the horrible consciousness of having been the means of plunging a fellow-being into vice and infamy. A loud unfeeling laugh, and an exclamation of 'The woman is mad,' was all the answer to this. 'This then is the completion of my sufferings,' cried Adeline,--'this only was wanted to complete the misery of my remorse.' 'This is too much,' exclaimed Langley. 'Mary, you know very well that--' 'Hold your tongue, Lang.; you know nothing about the matter: it is all nothing, but that Miss Mowbray, like a lawyer, can change sides, you see, and attack one day what she defended the day before, you know; and she has made you believe that she thinks now being kept a shameful thing.'