"Not slept? What do you mean? Have you been keeping this from me all these hours? Why did you not tell me at once?" "Because you make such a fuss, mamma. It was as much as my peace for all day was worth to disturb you." "You take it coolly. You must know where she is?" "No indeed, mamma. She was under your own wing when I saw her last. You sat on one side of her, and Mr Petty on the other. If she has broken away at last from such close _surveillance_, it is not very surprising." "Has your sister run away, my dear?" asked Mrs Wilkie across the table of Lucy. Then, turning her eyes defiantly on the mother, with whom, since their last set-to, she could scarcely be said to be on speaking terms, she added, "I gave you warning, ma'am, about certain on-goings; and ye were scarcely ceevil to me on the head of it. Who's right now? I'd like to know." "Whist, mother!" said her son, pulling at her gown under the table. "Let people settle their own hash." "They would have mixed my son up in their hash, and done for him, if they could. I'll show them I see through them and their pretensions, now when they're fand out, and know what a little-worth crew they are." Joseph Naylor overheard, and could not restrain a smile, which excited the indignation of his sister-in-law almost beyond control. "I remember your polite expressions, ma'am," she said; "but there are distinctions which make a difference. The gentleman you then chose to speak of disrespectfully, coupling his name with Miss Naylor's in a most unwarrantable manner, is fifth son of a deputy-lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum in Memicombshire, England. You have not been used to meet gentlemen of his station, and had better not refer to them. Ignorance becomes ridiculous when it forces itself into notice." "The fifth son of a tirlie-wirlie, is he, ma'am? I think little of that. I'd have ye know that my son has a tirlie-wirlie of his own, if it's a cairidge ye mean. The fifth son of people with a cairidge isn't much. He'd have to ride outside on the dickie beside the driver, I'm thinking." Mrs Naylor was dumb. It is useless to retort on people who do not, or who will not, understand. At that moment a telegram was brought to Joseph. He tore it open, read it, and handed it to his sister-in-law. "This is from Margaret," he whispered. "Control yourself, and do not give the people room to snigger at your expense." The telegram was dated Gorham, New Hampshire. It ran: "Married at eleven this morning. Margaret Blount."