“Oh, sir,” she replied, “my father, Mr. McCarthy, only took me from the convent three days ago; my mother is unwell, and I am therefore taking charge of the shop.”
“It was a very good idea of Mr. McCarthy’s! Any one would come here only to see you! Tell me, you have some fine legs of mutton there. Will you sell me one?”
“Why, of course, sir, they are there to be sold! Here, take this one, I am sure it is very tender.”
“Oh! the moment you recommend it I will take it at once.” I was triumphant. Mr. Thompson looked much astonished.
“Well, Miss McCarthy,” he continued, to hide his surprise, “you will send it home to me before this evening, if you please.”
“Certainly, sir! Will you give me your name, please, sir?”
“What! don’t you know me?”
“No, sir; I have only just left the convent.”
“Ah, very well. I am Mr. Thompson.”
“Oh, you are Mr. Thompson of —— Lodge?”