"'Tis my intention," I answered plump.
"May we ask what set the notion in your head?" says the grocer from his corner.
"Faith you may," said I, "and 'tis easy said. For walking down the Minories yesterday, whom did I spy but a handsome miss with as two pretty eyes as ever sparkled in a wench's face. 'She's for me,' says I to myself, 'she'll suit my town house like a linnet or a piping lark. I'll warrant she's all sunshine.'"
At that I thought they looked on me with some suspicion, and, perish me, I believe I had spoken too warmly, for she was dainty enough.
"Oh!" says aunt, faintly, and glanced at her husband, as if inviting him to speak, but he sat smoking.
"My niece says you are a godly man, sir?" she pursued.
"Godly," says I, "is not the word. I cry second to none if it comes to church and prayers."
She looked astonished at that, but 'twas the grocer who spoke next.
"'Tis a strange matter," he said, "that you should have took so great a fancy to Miss Nancy here. It may be, as you say, that you would adopt her, yet you are young for a daughter."