“I shall go and ask master myself,” said Keziah authoritatively, as she half rose. “I’m not going to have my child upset like this for nothing.”
“No, no, no!” sobbed May. “Pray stay, ’Ziah—dear ’Ziah, don’t be angry, and I’ll tell you all.”
“Then what is it?” said Keziah.
“Mr Brough—”
“Well?”
“Mr Brough has been to talk to papa.”
“Well, go on, child, for goodness’ sake, and do wipe your eyes. He’s been to talk to master, and what about, pray?”
“About me,” sobbed May.
“Well, and pray what about you?”
“He came to propose, and papa gave him leave.”