It was no use pretending she didn't hear them.

They were as unmistakable as knocks at a front door.
"What jugglery is this ?" she demanded, in an angry tone.
"Really, dear auntie, I am not a conjurer," replied Austin, as he sank back upon his cushions.

"That was what I heard last night.

But of course _you_ don't believe in such absurdities.

It's only your fancy after all, you know." "'Tain't _my_ fancy, anyhow," put in old Martha, speaking for the first time.