“If it takes effect on you like this, just to see one that knows them, even though she don’t belong to them,” said Matilda, “what will they do to you if they come themselves? and that young lady said she would come herself--and oh! hasn’t she got quick eyes? she’ll read you all through and through in a moment.” “Let me alone,” said Nancy; “do you think I care who comes? I have more control over myself than you think.” “I’d like to see some more signs of it,” said Matilda; “I thought you had mended of your silly ways; but here you are again, walking up and down and rampaging as bad as you were at home. If this is all to begin over again at the first mention of Arthur, whatever in all the world did you leave Arthur for?” “Because I was mad, I think;” said Nancy. “Well, that was always my opinion. Your husband, a nice well-dispositioned young man, that would have done anything to please you! and all for us at home, that were fond of you to be sure; but didn’t want you very much, Nancy.” “You are cruel, very cruel, to tell me so,” cried Nancy, “to tell me now!” “Well, now is the only time I could have told you,” said Matilda, composedly. “I wouldn’t have said it then to hurt your feelings; but you can’t blame poor old father and mother now, and it is quite true. When a daughter has married and gone off with a husband, who wants her back again at home? But nobody would be unkind and hurt your feelings; and now you hear the same from the other side. When married folks are separated, what can anyone think but that there’s something wrong? on one side or on the other side, it’s all one. But between you there’s nothing wrong, only your tempers--only your temper, Nancy, I should say, for Arthur, I will say that for him, always stood a deal more than he ought to have stood, a deal more than I’d have stood in his place.”