"Yes; I think that's very likely," responded Mr. Fuller.
"I know—it was Syne that told him, and he did it. But he wouldn't do it any more, would he, after he saw Somebody?"
"I don't think he would," answered Mr. Fuller, understanding her just enough to know the right answer to make. "But I will come and see you again to-morrow," he added, "and try whether I can't bring something with me that you will like."
"Thank you," answered the old-fashioned creature. "But don't be putting yourself to any expense about it, for I am not easy to please." And she lifted her hand to her head and gave a deep sigh, as if it was a very sad fact indeed. "I wish I was easier to please," she added, to herself; but Mr. Fuller heard her as he left the room.
"She's a very remarkable child that, Mr. Kitely—too much so, I fear," he said, reëntering the shop.
"I know that," returned the bookseller, curtly, almost angrily. "I wish she wasn't."
"I beg your pardon. I only wanted—"
"No occasion at all," interrupted Mr. Kitely.
"I only wanted," Mr. Fuller persisted, "to ask you whether you do not think she had better go out of town for a while."
"I dare say. But how am I to send her? The child has not a relation but me—and an aunt that she can't a-bear; and that wouldn't do—would it, sir? She would fret herself to death without someone she cared about."