“You mane, because”—lowering her voice—“I’m so like her?”
“Yes, in appearance; and you must strive hard to resemble her in other ways.”
“I will so if I can. But what ways?”
“She was most unselfish and thoughtful, good to the poor and the aged, kind to animals, very gay and gracious in her manners, sweet-tempered, clever, and fascinating.”
“Oh, but fancy the likes of me being clever, and fascinating!”
“Why not? But you will soon begin to learn to speak like other people. To-morrow I shall write down a list of expressions you are not to use. You are not to say ‘ould’ for old, ‘ye’ for you, ‘the likes of,’ ‘sure now,’ and ‘by your leave.’ Talk but little, listen, and read a great deal.”
“I see what you mean; I’m to keep my ears cocked. I’m not too bad to look at, but when I open my lips I am like the girl in the fairy tale, and my mouth drops toads and serpents.”
“There are no toads or serpents in Ireland you know. Still, just at present, until you see and hear a little more, I think you will find that, except between you and me, silence is golden.”
After a considerably long silence, during which Miss Usher knitted steadily and her charge stared about her, the latter said—
“Well, I’ve been listening to those two girls in blue carrying on with the nosey young man; and the little one told him he was ‘a rotter’ and the other said he was ‘pulling her leg.’ What sort of chat, do ye call that?”