“Who’s this woman, indeed!” cried Mary, now boiling over in her wrath; “‘this woman’ indeed! Perhaps you’ll tell her that I’m a poor deceived, foolish, trusting creature, who left her place at a moment’s notice to come and nuss him, and then find as I ain’t wanted, and that he’s already got his fine doll of a madam to wait on him.”
“Oh, Mary!” I cried; “you dear foolish old thing!”
“Yes, of course, that’s what I said I was, Master Antony, and even you turn agen me. But I might have known that such a fellow as William Revitts would have half-a-dozen fine madams ready to marry him.”
This was accompanied by pantings, and snorts, and little stamps of the foot, and a general look about poor Mary as if she were going to pull off her bonnet, jump upon it, and tear down her hair.
“Oh, you foolish old thing!” I cried, flying at her and literally hugging her in my delight at seeing her so soon, in the midst of my trouble.
“Be quiet, Master Antony,” she cried wrathfully, but throwing one arm round me as she spoke, in reply to my embrace. “But I won’t stand it, that I won’t.”
“But, my good woman,” faltered Linny.
“Don’t you ‘good woman’ me, slut!” cried Mary furiously. “I was going to give up and let you nurse him and till him, for aught I cared, but I won’t now. He’s engaged to me these four years, and he’s mine, and this is my place and room, and out you go, and the sooner the better; and—as for B—B—B—Bill—do take your hand from before my mouth, Master Antony! You’re a boy and don’t understand things. Now, then, madam, you pack!”
“Mary, be quiet!” I cried; “this is Mr Hallett’s sister, who kindly came to help nurse poor Bill till you could come. Bill does not know her; he never saw her before, but once.”
“Only once?” said Mary suspiciously.