The old woman made a short curtsey as she took it, dryly, from his fingers; and she stood, resolutely waiting.
"Oh! I suppose," he said, starting up, and stretching himself, with a smile and a little yawn, "you want me to turn out?"
"Yes, sir, please," said Mrs. Shackleton peremptorily.
The young gentleman cast a careless glance through the far window, looked lazily round, as if to see that he had not forgotten anything, and then said, with a smile:
"Mrs. Shackleton, happy the man who has such a lady to take care of his worldly goods."
"I'm no lady, sir; I'm not above my business," she said, with another hard little curtsey. "I tries to do my dooty accordin' to my conscience. Sorry to have to disturb you, sir."
"Not the least; no disturbance," he said, sauntering out of the room, with another yawn.
He was cudgelling his brains to think what civility he could do the old lady, or how he could please or make her friendly; but Mrs. Shackleton had her northern pride, he knew, which was easily ruffled, and he must approach her very cautiously.
