Roger did not wish to speak of the Baronet just at present. "I suppose the old man down here did ill use her?"
"Oh, dreadful;—there ain't no manner of doubt o' that. Dragged her about awful;—as he ought to be took up, only for the rumpus like. D'ye think she's see'd the Baro-nite since she's been in Lon'on, Muster Carbury?"
"I think she's a good girl, if you mean that."
"I'm sure she be. I don't want none to tell me that, squoire. Tho', squoire, it's better to me nor a ten pun' note to hear you say so. I allays had a leaning to you, squoire; but I'll more nor lean to you, now. I've said all through she was good, and if e'er a man in Bungay said she warn't—; well, I was there, and ready."
"I hope nobody has said so."
"You can't stop them women, squoire. There ain't no dropping into them. But, Lord love 'ee, she shall come and be missus of my house to-morrow, and what 'll it matter her then what they say? But, squoire,—did ye hear if the Baro-nite had been a' hanging about that place?"
"About Islington, you mean."
"He goes a hanging about; he do. He don't come out straight forrard, and tell a girl as he loves her afore all the parish. There ain't one in Bungay, nor yet in Mettingham, nor yet in all the Ilketsals and all the Elmhams, as don't know as I'm set on Ruby Ruggles. Huggery-Muggery is pi'son to me, squoire."
"We all know that when you've made up your mind, you have made up your mind."
"I hove. It's made up ever so as to Ruby. What sort of a one is her aunt now, squoire?"