What made Bessie turn white at the name? What made her gasp and bite her lips, as the young gentleman entered the room?
'I am grieved to hear of what has happened, Mr. Sparrow,' he said, taking off his hat; 'and I have come at once to ask if you will allow me to assist you.'
'Hush, if you please, sir,' returned Ben. 'Speak low. That--that man in the corner has been put in by the landlord, and I shouldn't like to wake him. We are in great distress--ruined, I may say, sir----'
'Then let me help you,' interrupted young Mr. Million eagerly. 'It will be a pleasure to me. Let me pay this man off. You and Miss Sparrow will confer an obligation upon me--believe me!--if you will allow me to do this.'
'I thank you for your offer, sir,' replied Ben, with a helpless look around the humble room in which he had spent many happy years, 'but'--something in Bessie's face imparted a decision to his voice--'it can't be, sir, it can't be.'
'Why?'
'Well, sir, it might get talked about, and that wouldn't do Bessie any good. You see, sir, you are so far above us that it's impossible we--we can mix, sir. Yes, sir, that's it; it's impossible we can mix. No, sir, it can't be.'
Young Mr. Million was silent for a few moments, and tapped with his fingers impatiently on the table.
'For some time,' he then said, 'I have seen that you and Miss Sparrow have rejected my advances, and have been different from what you were. Why, may I ask again?'
'Well, sir,' replied old Ben, emboldened by the expression on Bessie's face, 'it will be best to speak plain. You see, sir, the neighbours will talk; and when they see a gentleman like you always a-visiting poor people like us, they want to know the reason of it. And as we've no reason to give, they make one for themselves. People will talk, you see, sir; and I am afraid that my Bessie's name--my Bessie! the best girl in the world, sir; good enough to be a Princess----'