sir,” answered I.     

       “Get out, sir,” says he, as fierce as posbil; and I felt somethink (I think it was the tip of his to) touching me behind, and found myself, nex minit, sprawling among the wet flannings and buckets and things.     

       The people from up stairs came to see what was the matter, as I was cussin and crying out. “It's only Charles, ma,” screamed out Miss Betsy.     

       “Where's Mary?” says Mrs. Shum, from the sofy.     

       “She's in Master's room, miss,” said I.     

       “She's in the lodger's room, ma,” cries Miss Shum, heckoing me.     

       “Very good; tell her to stay there till he comes back.” And then Miss Shum went bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of Haltamont's return.     

      . . . . . . 

       I'd long before observed that my master had an anchoring after Mary Shum; indeed, as I have said, it was purely for her sake that he took and kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Excep for the sake of love, which is above being mersnary, fourteen shillings a wick was a LITTLE too strong for two such rat-holes as he lived in. I do blieve the famly had nothing else but their lodger to live on: they brekfisted off his tea-leaves, they cut away pounds and pounds of meat from his jints (he always dined at home), and his baker's bill was at least enough for six. But that wasn't my business. I saw him grin, sometimes, when I laid down the cold bif of a morning, to see how little was left of yesterday's sirline; but he never said a syllabub: for true love don't mind a pound of meat or so hextra.     

       At first, he was very kind and attentive to all the gals; Miss Betsy, in partickler, grew mighty fond of him: they sat, for whole evenings, playing cribbitch, he taking his pipe and glas, she her tea and muffing; but as it was improper for her to come alone, she brought one of her sisters, and this was genrally Mary,—for he made a pint of asking her, too,—and one day, when one of the others came instead, he told her, very quitely, that he hadn't invited her; and Miss Buckmaster was too fond of muffings to try this game on again: besides, she was jealous of her three grown sisters, and considered Mary as only a child. Law bless us! how 

 Prev. P 10/149 next