'See, there's Miss Nancarrow!'
Totty was coming over the grass at a little distance, between two companions, girls dressed with an emphasis of Sunday elegance which made her look rather brown and plain by contrast. Totty never cared to spend much on clothes, a singular feature of her character. When the three were passing at a distance of twenty yards, Nelly cried out with shrill voice:
'Miss Nancarrow!'
'Hush, child!' said her father, more annoyed than seemed necessary. 'Don't scream at people in that way.'
Nelly was abashed, but her cry had caught Totty's ear. The latter nodded, laughed, and went on with her friends.
'I say, father,' Jack began, 'do you know what I think?'
'What, boy?'
'Why, I think if you asked Miss Nancarrow to come and take a room in the new house, she would.'
'Why on earth should I ask her to do such a thing?' inquired Bunce, laying down his pipe on the grass; it had gone out since Totty's passing. He looked at his son with bent brows, and rather fiercely.
'Well, I know I'd like her to, and so would Nelly. I can get on with Miss Nancarrow, 'cause she's got so much sense. I don't think much of other women.'