"Why, how is that?" I asked, whereat she looked demure as a saint, and says she,—
"Oh, 'twas but nothing. 'Twas Cousin Tom."
And it appeared that Cousin Tom had set calf's eyes on her, and that his mother destined him for better things; so that the wench must quit, though she kept the tally for nunkie and the house for aunt.
"Well," says I, "'tis a piece of injustice, my dear, and that I'll swear to. Love you this Tom?"
Whereat she hesitated, and stammered, and turned aside her face, and then heaved up her pretty shoulders.
"He is so silly," says she.
"Why, that is the right kind of silliness for a maid, I'll take oath," said I.
But she said nothing, so I tossed a guinea on the table, for I had just taken a fancy to a little entertainment, having nothing to do and being at a loose end by reason of Polly.
"There's that will pay for a bottle of wine," said I, "the which I will put under my jacket by your leave, mistress. And I will be the one to pull you out of your despair."
She looked at me in surprise.