“Don’t you mind her, sir. Eggs aint no scarcity in this house; no, nor anything else you could want. Would you like the leg of a cold turkey, broiled, with a little currant jelly, sir? Or a few queen-cakes, with a glass of good old sherry?”
“Why, granny, I thought you hadn’t——” began Nettie, but Hugh put his hand over her lip and whispered:
“Don’t talk too much, Nettie. Go make friends with your guardian.”
Nettie turned, saw once more the tolerant, indulgent smile that was beaming upon her, and, with her usual way of assimilating only the good and the beauty of a mixed thing, sprang at once to his arms, to his neck, and caressing him vehemently, asked:
“You are not mad with me, are you, godfather? I love you dearly! dearly! ’Deed I do, godfather!” And turning around his bushy face between her little hands, she kissed him many times, repeating her question: “You are not mad ’long o’ me, are you, godfather?”
“No, darling little Nettie, I am not.”
I have often thought that the spell of power that child held over that man’s hard, stern, reserved nature was this: The blending of passionate fondness with perfect freedom, frankness, and fearlessness in her feelings and her manners toward him.
General Garnet then turned, and, addressing himself seriously to the old lady, informed her that he thought the time had come for him to discharge the great obligation under which he lay to his worthy deceased friend, the late gallant Corporal Seabright, and redeem the promise made to his widow when dying by taking care of the rearing, education, and future fortunes of their orphan girl. That it was now expedient that his dear little goddaughter and ward should be brought into proper restraint and training; that, in order that this should be fittingly accomplished, it was necessary that his sweet little ward should become an inmate of his house, and live under his immediate protection and supervision; that, being most unhappily a widower, and having no lady at the head of his establishment to look after his household, and do the honors, he should be under the necessity of engaging the services of some highly respectable matron as housekeeper; that he thought no more competent person for the duties of the position could be found in the world than Miss Josephine Cotter, and, under all the circumstances, no one could be found to fill the situation with such perfect propriety; that if she chose to exchange her lodge on the isle for the housekeeper’s rooms at Mount Calm, she might name her own salary, and he would come up to it or exceed it.
Miss Joe’s eyes twinkled under her iron-bound spectacles, but she hesitated to answer.
General Garnet gave her full time to digest his proposition, while he toyed with the child upon his knee—telling her of her new home and new prospects, as far as he thought she could comprehend them; promising her new dresses, books, playthings, a pony, etc. Finally, he raised his head and turned to Miss Joe, saying: