“Dear me, Miss Marianne, if you would not make such a rout,” cried Mrs. Tattle. “Miss Bertha, it’s nothing but a frolic. You see Mr. Frederick Montague only in a masquerade dress. Nothing in the world but a frolic, ma’am. You see he’s stopped bleeding. I was frightened out of my wits at first. I thought it was his eye, but I see it’s only his nose. All’s well that ends well. Mr. Frederick, we’ll keep your counsel. Pray, ma’am, let us ask no questions; it’s only a boyish frolic. Come, Mr. Frederick, this way, into my room, and I’ll give you a towel and some clean water, and you can get rid of this masquerade dress. Make haste, for fear your father and mother should drop in upon us.” “Do not be afraid of thy father and mother. They are surely thy best friends,” said a voice. It was the voice of an elderly gentleman, who now stood behind Frederick. “Oh, sir, oh, Mr. Eden,” said Frederick, turning to him. “Don’t betray me! for goodness’ sake!” whispered Mrs. Tattle, “say nothing about me.” “I’m not thinking about you. Let me speak,” cried he, pushing away her hand, which stopped his mouth. “I shall say nothing about you, I promise you,” said Frederick, with a look of contempt. “No, but for your own sake, my dear sir, your papa and mamma. Bless me! is not that Mrs. Montague’s carriage?” “My brother, ma’am,” said Sophy, “is not afraid of my father and mother’s coming back. Let him speak; he was going to speak the truth.” “To be sure, Miss Sophia, I wouldn’t hinder him from speaking the truth; but it’s not proper, I presume, ma’am, to speak truth at all times, and in all places, and before everybody, servants and all. I only wanted, ma’am, to hinder your brother from exposing himself. A hall, I apprehend, is not a proper place for explanation.” “Here,” said Mr. Eden, opening the door of his room, which was on the opposite side of the hall to Mrs. Tattle’s. “Here is a place,” said he to Frederick, “where thou mayst speak the truth at all times, and before everybody.” “Nay, my room’s at Mr. Frederick Montague’s service, and my door’s open too. This way, pray,” said she, pulling his arm. But Frederick broke from her, and followed Mr. Eden. “Oh, sir, will you forgive me?” cried he. “Forgive thee!—and what have I to forgive!” “Forgive, brother, without asking what,” said Bertha, smiling.