We prefer things as
they are, thank you."
Miss Stiles' already bright colouring was a little brighter. She knew her
Betsy Combermere, but she resented rebukes before Puddifoot.
"Then," she said, "if he means all that to the place, he'd better look
after his son more efficiently."
"_And_ exactly what do you mean by that?" asked Mrs. Combermere.
"Oh, everybody knows," said Miss Stiles, looking round to Miss Dobell and
the doctor for support, "that young Brandon is spending the whole of his
time down in Seatown, and that Miss Annie Hogg is not entirely unconnected
with his visits."
"Really, Ellen," said Mrs. Combermere, bringing her fist down upon the
table, "you're a disgusting woman. Yes, you are, and I won't take it back,
however much you ask me to. All the worst scandal in this place comes from
you. If it weren't for you we shouldn't be so exactly like every
novelist's Cathedral town. But I warn you, I won't have you talking about
Brandon. His son's only a boy, and the handsomest male in the place by the
way--present company, of course, excepted. He's only been home a few
months, and you're after him already with your stories.
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