She walked over shyly, holding the knife in one hand, and stretching forward for the other.
"Sit down here beside me, on the settle, my dear."
"I must do what 'Mandy ordered me, sir," she said, excusingly.
"Oh, don't you fear Amanda," he said; "I will be your security, my little woman, that she won't be displeased. Dear me, what nice hair and purty curls you have! and such beautiful teeth! Don't you think Miss Amanda is jealous of your charms? eh? Why do you turn away your head, my pet?"
"I don't like such talk, sir," she answered. "My Prayer Book, in the 'Table of Sins,' says it is a sin to listen to praise or flattery."
"Well said, my little lady," said the tempter. "You are right, Bridget; I was only trying you. I do not wish you to sin. You know I am the minister. I love you, and wish to see you a good Christian," said he, caressing her.
"I thank you, sir," was her answer.
"Now, my little good one, I want to tell you some news. I have a message for you,—a letter from a friend."
"Please show it, sir," she said, impatiently; "perhaps it is from my uncle, in Ireland, to whom Paul often wrote, but never got an answer back."
"No, my dear, it is from your father," said the tempter.