"Yes, sir."
She left the table and came nearer to him.
"Whatever made you think that my dear boy was likely to—to take a fancy to Harriet?"
"I've noticed that he talks to her a good deal, and comes into the back parlour a great deal, and brightens up when she speaks to him, and you can see his eyes dancing away behind the little spectacles he's taken to—and very becoming they are, sir."
"Very," asserted the old gentleman.
"And he's always dull when she's out, and fidgets till he knows where she has gone, and tries to make me tell; and so I've fancied, oh! ever so long, that Harriet and he would make a match of it some day."
He was amazed at this girl ascertaining the truth before himself, but he retained his cool demeanour.
"Some long day hence, mayhap—who can tell?"
"Love's as uncertain as life—isn't it, sir?"
"Ahem—yes."