“Oh, no, indeed. She’s not dead! I’m certain of it,” exclaimed Judy, with good-natured but inexcusable presumption.
“I’ll take that for a prophecy, anyways, ma’am, and believe into it. Yes, that is so.”
“And you will come with us to Haymore, Dandy?” said Ran.
“I thank you kindly, sir; I will.”
“Pray, Mr. Quin, stop calling me sir. You are an old man and I am a young one, almost a boy, and it is not fitting for you to call me sir.”
“Mr. Hay, I was brought up into the Church of England, and teached to be content with that station of life into which the Lord had called me; likewise, to respect my pastors and masters, and to honor my sooperioors. And twenty years’ wandering among the mines haven’t made me forget them airly lessons, nor yet my good manners, sir,” said Dandy, with a ceremonious bow, as he lifted his fur cap from his bald head.
“Judy, can’t you bring them to reason?” inquired Ran, with a laugh.
“Sorrow a worrd they’ll listen to meself!” exclaimed Judy, backsliding into dialect, as she frequently did.
“Well, do as you please, or I’ll make you!” laughed Ran.
And from that hour it was understood that the whole party should keep together until they should reach Haymore, instead of separating at Liverpool, as had been first intended.