“Nay, father, you can hear what I have to say without my seating myself.”
“Yes, my dear,” said Sir Thomas, humbly.
“Let Mother Goodhugh be, father.”
“But, my child, she is a most pestiferous witch.”
“For the present, father. For the present, let her be.”
“Well, my dear, if you wish it, of course—”
“I do wish it, father.”
“How odd, my dear, that you should come to say that, when I was studying up the matter.”
“I did not come to say that, father,” said Anne; “but to speak to you about our guest.”
“Yes, my dear, he has been here now six weeks since that disaster.”