But even suspicion may be insidiously placed in noble minds.
Mistress Plodgitt, thus early estopped of matchmaking, of course put the blame on her own sex, and went over to the stronger side--the man's.
"It's a great pity gals should be so curious," she said, sotto voce, to Thatcher, when Carmen was in one of her sullen moods.

"Yet I s'pose it's in her blood.

Them Spaniards is always revengeful,--like the Eyetalians." Thatcher honestly looked his surprise.
"Why, don't you see, she's thinking how all these lands might have been her uncle's but for you.

And instead of trying to be sweet and--" here she stopped to cough.
"Good God!" said Thatcher in great concern, "I never thought of that." He stopped for a moment, and then added with decision, "I can't believe it; it isn't like her." Mrs.P.was piqued.

She walked away, delivering, however, this Parthian arrow: "Well, I hope 'TAINT NOTHING WORSE." Thatcher chuckled, then felt uneasy.