work he is pursuing to
give a thought to marriage. And what does she say of you? She merely
calls it 'unsympathetic' of a new-comer to disturb the harmony of
sober-minded people by the introduction of coquetry. 'Unsympathetic'! If
I were to stigmatize such behavior, I should call it disgraceful. I was
mortified, Virginia, thoroughly mortified; and especially as Mr. Spence
had been here the day before, and spoken of you in terms that made me
feel really proud. As Miss Kingsley said, however, he is the last man in
the world to notice such a thing as coquetry."

I made a mental interrogation point, but I did not dare to give
utterance to the heresy lest I should seem to be carrying out Aunt
Agnes's insinuation that I would next accuse Mr. Spence of flirting with
me. I replied with as much quietness as I could at the moment command,--

"I can only repeat what I have already said. Miss Kingsley has slandered
me, whether intentionally or not I do not know. But her charge of
coquetry is utterly without foundation."

"Did you not make eyes at Mr. Barr, and give him a rose?" she
interrupted. "You see I know all."

"No, I did not," I answered, flushing. "On the contrary, Mr. Barr made
me feel excessively uncomfortable during most of the evening by the
absurd compliments he paid me, and by the way in which he stared at me.
As for the rose, I dropped it accidentally as I was getting into my
carriage, and I believe he picked it up."

"Accidentally!" said Aunt Agnes with a sniff. "As my informant said,
'when a young woman flings herself at the head of a hot-souled poet,
what is she to expect?' Human nature is human nature, and there are not
many men with the self-control of Mr. Spence."

"Miss Kingsley seems to have given you a great deal of information, Aunt
Agnes."

"You are mistaken again, as usual. The person who told me this is a
sober-minded woman of middle age, who could not have been influenced by
jealousy."

"Mrs. Marsh, I suppose. I might have known it, from her choice
vocabulary. Talk of gossips, Aunt Agnes, I never heard a worse one in
any drawing-room in the city. Who _is_ Mrs. Marsh?"

I was glowing with indignation again, and justly so as it seemed to me.
I had been cruelly misconstrued, and my self-control on the occasion of
Miss Kingsley's tea had been wholly unappreciated.

"Who is Mrs. Marsh? You may well ask who is Mrs. Marsh, after what you
have said about her. Gossip or no gossip, vocabulary or no vo