"If you've no objections," said the girl, with excessive politeness, "she's Mrs. Pond's little gal, and I nusses 'er."
"I have no objection. What is your name?"
"Wot it may be, my lordship," replied the girl, her politeness becoming Arctic, "is one thing--wot it is, is another."
"You are a clever little girl," said Aaron, smiling and rubbing his hands, "a sharp, clever little girl."
"Thank yer for nothink," said the girl. She had reached the North Pole; it was necessary to thaw her.
"Upon the mantelshelf," said Aaron, "just behind that beautiful blue vase, are two penny pieces. Step on a chair--not that cane one, you'll go through it; the wooden one--and see if you can find them."
"I see 'em," said the girl, looking down upon Aaron in more senses than one.
"They are yours. Put them in your pocket."
The girl clutched the pennies, jumped from the chair--whereat the baby crowed, supposing it to be a game provided for her amusement--and having no pocket, held the money tight in her hand. Visions of sweetstuff rose before her. The pennies getting warm, the ice in the North Pole began to melt. But there was a doubt in the girl's mind; the adventure was almost too good to be true.
"Yer don't get 'em back," she said; "stow larks, yer know."