"Softly, softly. Why, what a baby love is this! Come, come, Naomi; we can't all pick the bright fruit we see upon the tree; and, my child, those who do, often wish, as I daresay Eve did, that they had left it untouched." "I--I don't know what you mean, aunt dear, but it's very, very cruel. I did think him so nice and good and handsome." "Poor child!" said Aunt Sophia, smiling as the girl rested her head upon her arm, which was upon the old lady's knee. "And who is this wicked man? Is it Doctor Scales?" "Oh, what nonsense, aunt! He has always treated me as if I were a child, and--and that's what I am. To think that I should have made myself so miserable about such a wretch!" It was a curious mingling of the very young girl and the passionate budding woman, and Aunt Sophia read her very truly as she said softly: "Ah, well, child, time will cure all this. But who has troubled the poor little baby heart?" "Yes, aunt, that's right; that's what it is; but it will never be a baby heart again for such a man as Mr Prayle." "And so Mr Prayle has been playing fast and loose with you, has he, dear?" "No, aunt," said the girl sadly. "It was all my silliness. He never said a word to me; and I am glad now," she cried, firing up. "He's a bad, wicked man." "Indeed, my dear," thought Aunt Sophia, as she recalled Saxby's words. "I--I--I went into the study this morning, for I did not like it. I was hurt and annoyed, aunt, dear. Ought I to tell you all this?" "Think for yourself, my dear. You have been with me these fifteen years, ever since your poor mother died. I am a cross old woman, I know, full of whims and caprices; but I thought I had tried to fill a mother's place to you." "Oh, auntie, auntie!" sobbed the girl, clinging lightly to her, and drawing herself more and more up, till she could rest her head upon the old lady's shoulder, "don't think me ungrateful. I do--I do love you very dearly." "Enough to make you feel that there should be no want of confidence between us?" "O yes, aunt, dear; and I'll never think of keeping anything back from you again. I'll tell you everything now, and then I'm sure you'll say we ought to go away from here." "Well, well--we'll see." "I thought I was very fond of Mr Prayle, aunt dear; and then I grew sure that I was, when I saw how he was always being shut up in the study with Kate, and it--it--" "Speak out, my dear," said Aunt Sophia gravely. "It made me feel so miserable." Aunt Sophia's face puckered, and she bowed her head. "Then I said that it was wicked and degrading to think what I did, and I drove such thoughts away, and tried to believe that it was all Cousin James's affairs; and then I saw something else; but I would not believe it was true till this morning." "Well, Naomi, my child, and what was it?" "Why, aunt--Oh, I don't like to confess--it was so shameless and unmaidenly; but I thought I loved him so very much. I--I--don't like to confess." "Not to me, my dear?"