This was wormwood to Miss Maitland. "Even in our ashes live their wonted
fires;" and, though she was sixty, she disliked to hear a young woman
praised. She bridled, then returned to the attack.

"Next time you wish to inspect it, you had better ask her _to take it
off,_ and show you."

"May I, Miss Maitland?" inquired the ingenuous youth. "She would not
think that a liberty?"

His mild effrontery staggered her for a moment, and she glared at him,
speechless, but soon recovered, and said, bitterly, "Evidently _not."_
With this she turned her back on him rather ungraciously, and opened fire
on her own sex.

"Zoe!" (sharply).

"Yes, aunt " (faintly).

"Tell your brother--if he can leave off smoking--I wish to speak to him."

Zoe hung her head, and was in no hurry to bring about the proposed
conference.

While she deliberated, says Fanny, with vast alacrity, "I'll tell him,
aunt."

"Oh, Fanny!" murmured Zoe, in a reproachful whisper.