"And what is her address in London?" In reply to this Sam again shook his head. "Do you mean to seek her now?"
"What's the use of seeking her if I ain't got nowhere to put her into. Father's got a house and plenty of room in it. Where could I put her?"
"Sam, if you'll find her, and bring her to any place for me to see her, I'll find a home for her somewhere. I will, indeed. Or, if I knew where she was, I'd go up to London to her myself. She's not my sister—!"
"No, sir, she ain't. The likes of you won't likely have a sister the likes of her. She's a—"
"Sam, stop. Don't say a bitter word of her. You love her."
"Yes;—I do. That don't make her not a bad 'un."
"So do I love her. And as for being bad, which of us isn't bad? The world is very hard on her offence."
"Down on it, like a dog on a rat."
"It is not for me to make light of her sin;—but her sin can be washed away as well as other sin. I love her too. She was the brightest, kindest, sauciest little lass in all the parish, when I came here."
"Father was proud enough of her then, Mr. Fenwick."