“Good heavens! Dr Middleton, what can you mean by bringing this person here?” exclaimed Mrs Easy. “Not a married woman, and she has a child!”
“If you please, ma’am,” interrupted the young woman, dropping a curtsey, “it was a very little one.”
“A very little one!” explained Mrs Easy.
“Yes, ma’am, very small indeed, and died soon after it was born.”
“Oh, Dr Middleton!—what could you mean, Dr Middleton?”
“My dear madam,” exclaimed the doctor, rising from his chair, “this is the only person that I could find suited to the wants of your child, and if you do not take her, I cannot answer for its life. It is true that a married woman might be procured; but married women who have a proper feeling will not desert their own children; and, as Mr Easy asserts, and you appear to imagine, the temper and disposition of your child may be affected by the nourishment it receives, I think it more likely to be injured by the milk of a married woman who will desert her own child for the sake of gain. The misfortune which has happened to this young woman is not always a proof of a bad heart, but of strong attachment, and the overweening confidence of simplicity.”
“You are correct, doctor,” replied Mr Easy, “and her head proves that she is a modest young woman, with strong religious feeling, kindness of disposition, and every other requisite.”
“The head may prove it all for what I know, Mr Easy, but her conduct tells another tale.”
“She is well fitted for the situation, ma’am,” continued the doctor.
“And if you please, ma’am,” rejoined Sarah, “it was such a little one.”