"Oh, my," said Miss Beal, "look there." And she pointed to where Mr.
Jeminy, close to the fence, was dancing up and down, waving his hat in
the air. "Why, the old fool," said Mrs. Grumble.
"At his age," echoed Miss Beal.
But it did not amuse Mrs. Grumble to hear anyone else find fault with
Mr. Jeminy. "He's enjoying himself," she said. "I don't know as how
we've any call to make remarks."
"I only said 'at his age,'" replied Miss Beal hastily. But when she
thought it over, it occurred to her that she was right, and Mrs.
Grumble was wrong. Without courage on her own account, she was able to
defend with energy the general opinion. "I said 'at his age,'" she
repeated more firmly.
Mrs. Grumble folded her hands, and assumed a forbidding expression. "I
expect," she said, "that Mr. Jeminy is old enough to do as he pleases."
"Maybe he is," answered the dressmaker, nettled by her friend's tone,
"maybe he is. And maybe there's others old enough to know what's right
in a man of his years, Mrs. Grumble.
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