‘Get a girl into trouble like that, and walk away and smile? indeed, I don’t think it is. They could not say anything to you, but they might say a great many things that would not be pleasant to her--they would say it was not--nice: they would say it was not like a lady: they would say---- Oh,’ said Cara, with great gravity, ‘there are a great many very disagreeable things that people can say.’ ‘You look as if you had felt it,’ said Oswald, with a laugh--‘but what does it all mean? Only that the old people cannot amuse themselves as we do--and are jealous. You may be a little tender-conscienced creature, but you don’t suppose really that girls mind?’ ‘Not mind!’ cried Cara, growing red, ‘to be called unwomanly, unladylike! What should one mind, then? Do you think nothing but beating us should move us? Most likely she has not slept all night for shame--and you, you are quite pleased! you laugh.’ ‘Come, Cara, you are too hard upon me. Poor little darling! I would save her if I could from ever shedding a tear. But what does a scolding of that kind matter? She will cry I daresay--and next time we meet she will tell me about it, and laugh at herself for having cried. But I must find out who she is, and get introduced in proper form.’ ‘Could I go, or Aunt Cherry? I am not hard, Oswald--I would do anything for you or for her--but you should not be so unfeeling. If she is only a teacher and poor, she might get into disgrace, she might be turned away--for, after all,’ said Cara, with gentle severity, ‘I do not suppose she was to blame--but girls should not talk to gentlemen in the streets. Oh, yes, I know it was your fault---- but, after all----’ ‘What a little dragon!’ cried Oswald. ‘You! why, I should have thought you would have sympathised with a girl like yourself--that is what comes of being brought up by old maids.’ Cara gave him a look of superb yet gentle disdain. She rose up and got her flowers again, and began to arrange the golden crocus-cups among the moss which she had prepared to receive them. She had nothing to reply to such an accusation--and, to tell the truth, Oswald felt, notwithstanding his fine manly conscious superiority to old maids and prudish girls, and all the rules of old-fashioned decorum, somewhat sharply pricked by the dart of that quiet contempt. ‘I recant,’ he said. ‘Miss Cherry would be less hard than you, my lady Cara.’ ‘Aunt Cherry would go if you wished it, and tell the Sister not to be angry,’ said Cara. ‘So would I--though perhaps I am too young. We could say that it was entirely your fault--that you _would_ talk to her--that you wish to know her friends.’