"Rob me of Sophy, sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore. "What on earth am I to do without 'er?"
"Oh, you will get along very well without her----"
"But you don't know what a 'elp she is to me, and 'ow good she's been. I've got that fond of 'er that I don't like 'er to be out of my sight. You're joking, sir, ain't yer?"
"Not at all," said I, smiling at this sudden display of affection. "I have something for Sophy to do, and if she undertakes it she will get well paid for the job."
"Never mind about my being paid for it," interposed Sophy; "I'm going to do it, whatever it is."
"And leave me 'ere all alone!" whimpered Mrs. Middlemore.
"You will not be alone. The first thing in the morning a girl shall be engaged to keep in the house with you, and I will pay her wages; and you shall have an allowance while Sophy's away. Remember what I have done for you, and don't make any further objections."
"I'm sure you've been very good, sir," said Mrs. Middlemore, her trouble lessened by the prospect of gain; the virtues of golden ointment are not to be excelled. "Might I take the liberty of arksing whether it's got anythink to do with Mr. Felix?"
"I cannot answer you," I said. "What Sophy will do will be a secret between her and me for the present. By and by, perhaps, she will tell you all about it."
"You've got a way with you, sir, that nobody can't resist. You'll come back to me, Sophy?"