“Glad to see you come back to us, Miss Wells.”
“The same to you, sir,” said Mary, with more pertness than logic; “which I'm only come to take leave, for to-morrow I go to London, on business.”
“La! what's the business, I wonder?” inquired a house-maid, irreverentially.
“Well, my business is not your business, Jane. However, if you want to know, I'm going to be married.”
“And none too soon,” whispered the kitchen-maid to a footman.
“Speak up, my dear,” said Mary. “There's nothing more vulgarer than whispering in company.”
“I said, 'What will Bill Drake say to that?'”
“Bill Drake will say he was a goose not to make up his mind quicker. This will learn him beauty won't wait for no man. If he cries when I am gone, you lend him your apron to wipe his eyes, and tell him women can't abide shilly-shallying men.”
“That's a hexcellent sentiment,” said John the footman, “and a solemn warning it is—”
“To all such as footmen be,” said Mary.