“That old fool, Captain Sparks, had recently taken to haunting her with attentions, and as the easiest way to be rid of him, she had consented for once to ride with him, and had taken the occasion to tell him it could not be repeated. But then it was rare fun to drive his fast horse,—she was so fond of driving, and Blucher was so fleet and spirited, and had brought them up to the house in such style. Did Everard see them,—and what did he think?” “Yes, I saw you, and thought you were enjoying it hugely,” Everard said; and Josey detected something in his tone which made her suspect that he did not quite like the captain’s manner of lifting her from the carriage. But she was equal to the emergency, and made fun of the old man, and called him a love-sick muff, and took him off to the life, and then, in a grieved, martyred kind of way, said, “it was rather hard for her to know just what to do, situated as she was, married, and yet not married, in fact. She would not for the world do anything to displease Everard, but must she decline all attention and make a nun of herself, and how soon could she let her marriage be known?” “Not yet, Josey,” Everard said, explaining to her rapidly how much worse the matter was for them now his mother was dead. She might, and would, have helped them when the crisis came, but now there was no one to stand between him and his father, who was sure to take some desperate step if he knew of the rash marriage before his son was through college. “We must wait, Josey, two years, sure,” he said; and, because she could not help herself, Josephine assented, very sweetly, though with something of an injured air, and managed next to speak of money, and asked if he hated her for being such a _leech_. “You mustn’t, for I couldn’t help it,” she said, and she leaned on his arm, and buttoned and unbuttoned his coat, and caressed him generally, as she continued: “Maybe you didn’t know how poor the bride was, or you would not have taken her. Mother is in Boston now about some mortgage on the house, and it takes so much to live decently, and my lessons cost frightfully; but you are glad to have me improve, dearest?” Of course he was glad, he said, but he had no means of getting money except from his father, and if she knew to what humiliation he was subjected when he asked for funds, she would spare him all she could. By and by, when he had money of his own, there should be no stint, but now she must be economical, he told her; and then she spoke of Rosamond, and asked who and what that queer little old-fashioned thing could be. “Such a lecture as she gave Mr. Joe Fleming for gambling, and leading you wrong generally. Why, I laugh till I cry every time I think of it,” Josey said, proving the truth of what she asserted by laughing heartily. But the laugh grated on Everard, as in some way an affront to Rossie, and he shrank from saying much of her, except to tell who she was, and how she came to be living at the Forrest House.