"Not married a month yet, quite, Ma'am," said JOSEPHINE, "which makes it hard."--
"And take him out, I may say, in cold blood"--
"Which makes it ten times wickeder," said JOSEPHINE.
"Exactly like a lamb, Ma'am," cried the girl. "Only there is this difference, Ma'am: you know master isn't a bit hurt."
"That has nothing to do with it. He might have been killed, and what would MR. TRUEPENNY have cared? No! I might have been left a wretched widow!"
"And much MR. TRUEPENNY would have helped you then, Ma'am," said the good girl.
"No, he never crosses the _Flitch_--never: and that I shall tell your master. The foolish, dear fellow! How I will scold him."
"Do, Ma'am; he deserves it all. To go fighting and--and after all, do you know for a certainty what he went fighting about?"--
"Folly, madness, of course," said I. "Jealous of"--
"Well, I thought so!" cried JOSEPHINE, with a strange knowing look. "I thought as much. Jealous, and of you, too, above all folks! And in your Honeymoon, too. Well, I'm sure; as if there wasn't time enough for that!"
"I don't mean to say jealous; not of me--of course not. But the fact is, he fired up at a rudeness, a liberty that"--
"You don't say so, Ma'am!" cried the girl. "La, and if you please, how was that?"
"Why, it was all folly--all nonsense--and he ought to have known better; but--there was a little flower-girl on the beach. What's the matter, JOSEPHINE?" for I saw the creature look suddenly confused.
"Nothing, Ma'am--only I--I once saw that girl--a gipsey-girl, Ma'am--with flowers, Ma'am; yes, to be sure."
"Can't say I know. Because one should hardly lower oneself to know a creature of that sort. Only once, and perhaps twice, I've had a nosegay of her."
"Well, she _would_ give a nosegay to me," said I.
"Just like 'em, Ma'am," replied JOSEPHINE.
"Yes. She ran to me, and put a nosegay in my hand. And in that nosegay, what, JOSEPHINE--(and I watched her narrowly as I further questioned)--what do you think there was?"
"Law! Who can answer for the gipsies," cried JOSEPHINE.
"Well, then, there was a letter--a love-letter; and that letter finding its way to your master's hand"--
"Oh, Ma'am! _Do_ forgive me! Pray forgive me! I couldn't help it; but I see it all now. The gentleman _would_ write--that letter was not for you!"--