"I've got him to look after," she resumed, "and I will. He's mine, miss! If anybody's not doing right by him, I ought to be by and see him through it." Here Miss Dasomma's prudence for a moment forsook her: who shall explain such _accidents_! It stung her to hear her friends suspected of behaving unjustly. "That's all you know, Amy!" she blurted out--and bit her lip in vexation with herself. Amy was upon her like a cat upon a mouse. "What is it?" she cried. "I _must_ know what it is! You shall _not_ keep me in the dark! I _must_ do my duty by my husband. If you do not tell me, I will go to him." In terror at what might be that result of her hasty remark, Miss Dasomma faltered, reddened, and betrayed considerable embarrassment. A prudent person, lapsing into a dilemma, is specially discomfitted. She had committed no offence against love, had been guilty of no selfishness or meanness, yet was in miserable predicament. Amy saw, and was the more convinced and determined. She persisted, and Miss Dasomma knew that she would persist. Presently, however, she recovered herself a little. "How can you wonder," she said with confused vagueness, "when you know he deceived you, and never told them he was going to marry you?" "But they know nothing of it yet--at least from the way Hester writes!" "Yes; but one who could behave like that would be only too likely to give other grounds of offence." "Then there _is_ something more--something I know nothing about!" exclaimed Amy. "I suspected it the moment I saw Hester's face at the door!"--she might have said before that.--"I _must_ know what it is!" she went on. "I may be young and silly, but I know what a wife owes to her husband; and a wife who cares for nothing but her husband can do more for him than anybody else can. Know all about it I will! It is my business!" Miss Dasomma was dumb. She had waked a small but active volcano at her feet, which, though without design against vineyards and villages, would go to its ends regardless of them! She must either answer her questions or persuade her not to ask any. "I beg, Amy," she said with entreaty "you will do nothing rash. Can you not trust friends who have proved themselves faithful?" "Yes; for myself," answered Amy: "but it is my _husband_!"--She almost screamed the word.--"And I will trust nobody to take care enough of _him_. They can't know how to treat him or he would love them more, and would not have been afraid to let them know he was marrying a poor girl. Miss Dasomma, what have you got against him? I have no fear you will tell me anything but the truth!" "Of course not!" returned Miss Dasomma, offended, but repressing all show of her feeling.--"Why then will you not trust me?" "I will believe whatever you say; but I will not trust even you to tell or not tell me as you please where my husband is concerned. That would be to give up my duty to him. Tell me what it is, or--"