“Why ain’t you good, now, Nancy?” replied Joey.
“Because—” said Nancy.
“Because why?”
“Because I am not good,” replied the girl; “and now, Peter, don’t ask any more questions, or you’ll make me cry. Heigho! I think crying very pleasant now and then; one’s heart feels fresher, like flowers after the rain. Peter, where are your father and mother?”
“I don’t know; I left them at home.”
“You left them at home! but do you never hear from them? do you never write?”
“No.”
“But why not? I am sure they have brought you up well. They must be very good people—are they not?”
Joey could not answer; how could he say that his father was a good man after what had passed?
“You don’t answer me, Peter; don’t you love your father and mother dearly?”