Rampant, she thinks."

I could not help laughing.

"However, Isobel, we may be sure of this, people of soft, gentle
temperaments have their own difficulties with their own souls which we
escape. Perhaps in the absence of such marked vices as bring one to
open shame one might be slower to undertake vigorous self-improvement.
You and I have no difficulty in seeing the sin lying at _our_ door."

"N--no," said I.

"Well, _have you_?" said Aunt Isobel, facing round. "Bless me," she
added impetuously, "don't say you haven't if you have. Never let any
one else think for you, child!"

"If you'll only have patience and let me explain--"

"I'm patience its very self!" interrupted my aunt, "but I do hate a No
that means Yes."

_My_ patience began to evaporate.

"There are some things, Aunt Isobel, _you know_, which can't be
exactly squeezed into No and Yes. But if you don't want to be bothered
I won't say anything, or I'll say yes or no, which ever you like."

And I kicked the shovel. (My aunt had shoved the poker with _her_
slipper.) She drew her foot back and spoke very gently: