“In truth, I never thought so well of him as to suppose it.”
“Well, well, I 'm sure it 's little I expected you to look so mild and so quiet. But you need n't pinch me, for all that. Is n't your name Tom?”
“Yes; I hope you 'll always call me so.”
“Maybe I will. Is n't that done yet? And there 's the milk bell. Uncle will be in a nice passion if I 'm not down soon. Cut it,—cut it at once.”
“Now do be patient for a minute or two; it's all right if you stay quiet. I 'll try my teeth on it.”
“Yes; but you needn't try your lips too,” said she, tartly.
“Why, it 's the only plan to get your fingers out of the way. I 'm sure I never was so puzzled in all my life.”
“Nothing like practice, my boy,—nothing,” cried a merry voice from the door behind me, half choked with laughing; while a muttered anathema, in a deeper tone, followed. I looked back, and there stood Bubbleton, his face florid with laughter, endeavoring to hold back Mr. Basset, whose angry look and flashing eye there was no mistaking.
“Mr. Burke,—Burke, I say! Nelly, what does this mean? How came this young gentleman—”
“As to that,” said I, interrupting him, and my blood somewhat chafed by his manner, “this piece of trumpery tumbled down when I leaned my arm on it. I had no idea—”