“You’d better,” said Jessop grimly. “You dare say a word to a soul, and I’ll never put a ring on your finger, my lady—there!”
“Yes, you will—you shall!” cried the girl passionately. “You promised me, and the law shall make you!”
“Will you be quiet? You’ll have my father hear you directly.”
“And a good job too.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Master’s a dear, good gentleman, and always been nice and kind. I’ll tell him—that I will!”
“Not you. There, wipe those pretty little blue eyes, and don’t make your dear little puggy nose red, nor your cheeks neither. I don’t know, though,” whispered Jessop, passing his arm round the girl and drawing her to him; “it makes you look very sweet and attractive. I say, Lyddy, dear, you are really a beautiful girl, you know.”
“Do adone, Jessop,” she whispered, softening directly, and yielding herself to his touch.
“I couldn’t help loving you, darling, and I love you more and more every day, though you will lead me such a life with your jealousy. I never find fault with you when I see you smiling at Clive.”
“But it is not as I do at you, dear. Mr Clive was always quite the gentleman to me, and it hurts me to see you trying so hard to get Miss Janet away from him.”