'Shameful of him! shameful!' he muttered perversely: for it would have made him desolate to have had to change his opinion of her ladyship after cherishing it, and consoling himself with it, five-and-twenty years. Fearing the approach of softness, he prepared to take his leave.
'Now—your servant, my lady. I stick to my word, mind: and if your people here are willing, I—I 've got a candidate up for Fall'field— I'll knock him down, and you shall sneak in your Tory. Servant, my lady.'
Old Tom rose to go. Lady Jocelyn took his hand cordially, though she could not help smiling at the humility of the cobbler's son in his manner of speaking of the Tory candidate.
'Won't you stop with us a few days?'
'I 'd rather not, I thank ye.'
'Won't you see Rose?'
'I won't. Not till she's married.'
'Well, Tom, we're friends now?'
'Not aware I've ever done you any harm, my lady.'
'Look me in the face.'