r had
referred to him.

"O Sam can't get beyond fourteen till he's twenty," said Mrs.
Stoutenburgh laughing. "I suppose by that time I sha'n't care how old
he is."

"I know who thinks he's a handsome fellow!" said Miss Essie shaking her
head,--"and that's not you, Mrs. S. _I_ know he's a smart one, for I
pinned a blue ribband to his coat once. I wonder if he loves me
properly for it.--Faith Derrick, how come you to be here, child?"

"Why because Mrs. Stoutenburgh asked me," said Faith, answering this
sudden address with some surprise.

"Wrong!" said Miss Essie. "There's some mistake about it. I've just
come from hearing you talked of."

"Whom did you hear, Miss Essie?" said the Squire. "Come--give up your
authority."

"I was at Judge Harrison's," said Miss Essie, after a considerative
look of her black eyes at the Squire;--"and that's all I am going to
tell you, Mr. Stoutenburgh! Mr. Linden, what do you think of the
propriety of people's talking about people?"

"I think well of the propriety, when it exists."

"Well what do you think of its existence? Honestly, now. I want to get
at your opinion."

"I think its existence is rather limited and precarious, Miss Essie,"
said Mr. Linden smiling. "It is one of those things that may be said to
have a delicate constitution."

"Well," said Miss Essie again, smiling too, both with lips and
eyes,--"how could people get along in such a place as Pattaquasset, for
instance, without it? People must talk. And it is so pleasant to know
that Mrs. Stoutenburgh's son Sam is fifteen years old and had a party
on his birthday; and that Mr. Linden and Miss Derrick were there and
eat roast turkey;--and to know that Miss Essie de Staff went to New
York to get a new carpet for her best room and what the new style
is;--and that Miss Faith Derrick was run away with and brought home
again, and went through adventures. How could we do without talking of
these things? Now perhaps you will say it's immoral; but I'm in favour
of a _possible_ morality; and I say, how could Pattaquasset get along
without all this?"

"Pattaquasset could get along without some of the things, to start
with," said the Squire. "I don't know what you call 'pleasant,' Miss
Essie, but I never was so angry in my life--since some rascal told me
Mrs. Stoutenburgh was going to marry somebody else," he added laughing.

"But I say," said Miss Essie, "how could Pattaquasset get along without
_talking_ of these things?