ribs;--they were all warnings: so was old Mr. Rampant, so was my Aunt
Isobel.

Aunt Isobel's story was a whispered tradition of the nursery for many
years before she and I were so intimate, in consequence of her
goodness and kindness to me, that one day I was bold enough to say to
her, "Aunt Isobel, is it true that the reason why you never married
is because you and he quarrelled, and you were very angry, and he went
away, and he was drowned at sea?"

Child as I was, I do not think I should have been so indelicate as to
have asked this question if I had not come to fancy that Nurse made
out the story worse than it really was, for my behoof. Aunt Isobel was
so cheerful and bright with us!--and I was not at that time able to
believe that any one could mend a broken heart with other people's
interests so that the marks should show so little!

My aunt had a very clear skin, but in an instant her face was thick
with a heavy blush, and she was silent. I marvelled that these were
the only signs of displeasure she allowed herself to betray, for the
question was no sooner out of my mouth than I wished it unsaid, and
felt how furious she must naturally feel to hear that her sad and
sacred story was bandied between servants and children as a
nursery-tale with a moral to it.

But oh, Aunt Isobel! Aunt Isobel! you had at this time progressed far
along that hard but glorious road of self-conquest which I had hardly
found my way to.

"I beg your pardon," I began, before she spoke.