"Oh, very well, Mr. Pritchett;" and Miss Baker was going away.
"But, one word, if you please, ma'am. I don't detain you, ma'am, do I?" and you might have guessed by Pritchett's voice that he was quite willing to let her go if she wished, even though his own death on the spot might be the instant result.
"Oh dear, no, Mr. Pritchett," said Miss Baker.
"We all see how things have gone, ma'am, now;—about Miss Caroline, I mean."
"Yes, she is Lady Harcourt now."
"Oh, yes, I know that, ma'am," and Mr. Pritchett here sank to the lowest bathos of misery. "I know she's Lady Harcourt very well. I didn't mean her ladyship any disrespect."
"Oh dear, no, of course not, Mr. Pritchett. Who would think such a thing of you, who's known her from a baby?"
"Yes, I have know'd her from a babby, ma'am. That's just it; and I've know'd you from amost a babby too, ma'am."
"That was a very long time ago, Mr. Pritchett."
"Yes, it is some years now, certainly, Miss Baker. I'm not so young as I was; I know that." Mr. Pritchett's voice at this juncture would have softened the heart of any stone that had one. "But this is what it is, ma'am; you're going to live with the old gentleman now."