"My mother died when I was three, and my father brought me up."
"He did, hey? Well, he made a fairly good job of it. Now, I guess you can go; I'm about tired of talking to you."
"Then I will go. But, first, Miss Daggett, let me tell you that I met your nephew the other day."
"Kenneth! For the land's sake! Well, well, sit down again. I don't want you to go yet; tell me all about him. Isn't he a nice boy? Hasn't he fine eyes? And gentlemanly manners? And oh, the lovely ways with him!"
"Yes, Miss Daggett, he is indeed a nice boy; my father and I both think so. His eyes and his manners are fine. He says he wants to come out to see you soon."
"Bless his heart, I hope he'll come! I do hope he'll come."
"Then you like to have him come to see you?" said Patty, a little roguishly.
"Yes, and I like to have you, too. Land, child! you mustn't mind my quick ways."
"I don't mind how quick you are," said Patty; "but when you tell me to be sure and not come to see you, of course I don't come."
"Oh, that's all right," said Miss Daggett, "that's all right; I'll always send for you when I want you.