the girl needed _advising_;" and "she should _talk_ to Mary about the
matter."
But she first concluded to advise with William on the subject; and,
therefore, after dinner the same day, while he was looking over a
treatise on trigonometry or conic sections, she commenced upon him:--
"Our Mary is growing up a fine girl."
William was intent on solving a problem, and only understanding that
something had been said, mechanically answered, "Yes."
"A little wild or so," said Mrs. Abigail.
"I know it," said William, fixing his eyes earnestly on E, F, B, C.
"Perhaps you think her a little too talkative and free with you
sometimes; you know girls do not always think what they do."
"Certainly," said William, going on with his problem.
"I think you had better speak to her about it," said Mrs. Abigail.
"I think so too," said William, musing over his completed work, till at
length he arose, put it in his pocket, and went to school.
O, this unlucky concentrativeness! How many shocking things a man may
indorse by the simple habit of saying "Yes" and "No," when he is not
hearing what is said to him.
The next morning, when William was gone to the academy, and Mary was
washing the breakfast things, Aunt Abigail introduced the subject with
great tact and delicacy by remarking.--
"Mary, I guess you had better be rather less free with William than you
have been."
"Free!" said Mary, starting, and nearly dropping the cup from her hand;
"why, aunt, what _do_ you mean?"
"Why, Mary, you must not always be around so free in talking with him,
at home, and in company, and every where. It won't do." The color
started into Mary's cheek, and mounted even to her forehead, as she
answered with a dignified air,--
"I have not been too free; I know what is right and proper; I have not
been doing any thing that was improper."
Now, when one is going to give advice, it is very troublesome to have
its necessity thus called in question; and Mrs. Abigail, who was fond of
her own opinion, felt called upon to defend it.
"Why, yes, you have, Mary; every body in the village notices it."
"I don't care what every body in the village says. I shall always do
what I think proper," retorted the young lady; "I know Cousin William
does not think so."
"Well, _I_ think he does, from some things I have heard him say."
"O aunt! what have you heard him say?" said Mary, nearly upsetting a
chair in the eagerness with which she turned to h
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