“Not you! It is not yet eighteen years since thou showed thy face in this world.”
“I was speaking generally, mother.”
“Eh, but there’s something wrong in that way! A lot o’ bother can come out of it. I wouldn’t mind anything Harry Bradley says, thy father won’t hev any nonsense about him. I can tell thee that!”
“Father is so set in his own way. No one suits him lately. We met Captain Chandos last Monday, and he would hardly notice him.”
“Well, then, there are plenty of folk no one can suit, and varry often they can’t suit themselves.”
“Oh, I don’t care about Chandos, mother; but I feel angry when Harry is slighted. You see, mother, I might come to marry Harry Bradley.”
“I do hope thou won’t be so far left to thysen, as that would mean.”
“Then you would be wise to let me go to London. A girl must have a lover, or she feels out in the cold, and Harry is the best specimen of a man round about Annis.”
“All right. Let me tell thee that I hev noticed that the girls who never throw a line into the sea of marriage, do a deal better than them that are allays fishing.”
“Perhaps so, but then there is the pleasure of throwing the line.”