"Got none—at least she said so; and, as I didn't like to tell her she told a story, I asked Miss Hagar, and she told me to mind my own business; yes, she actually did. Nobody minds how they talk to me. People haven't a bit of respect for me; and I have to put up with sass from every one. I won't stand it much longer, either. There!"
"No, I wouldn't advise you to," said Louis. "Better sit down; no use in standing it."
"Wiseman's a fool if he lets that crazy tramp, his sister, support beggars in his house," exclaimed the squire, in a threatening tone. "Lunatics like her should not be allowed to go at large. He has no business to permit it."
"I'd like to see him trying to stop it," said Gipsy. "I'd be in his wool."
"You!" said the squire, contemptuously. "What could a little Tom Thumb in petticoats, like you, do?"
"Look here, now, Guardy, don't call a lady names. When you speak of Tom Thumb, you know, it's getting personal. What could I do? Why, I'd set his house on fire some night about his ears, or some day, when out shooting, a bullet might strike him accidentally on purpose. It takes me to defend injured innocence," said Gipsy, getting up, and squaring-off in an attitude of defiance, as she exclaimed: "Come on, old Wiseman, I'm ready for you!"
"Well, I can't allow you to associate with beggars. You must never go to Deep Dale again. I can't countenance his proceedings. If he choose to make a fool of himself, it's no reason why I should do so too."
"None in the world, sir—especially as nature has saved you that trouble."
"You audacious little demon, you! what do you mean?"
"Ahem! I was just observing, sir, that it's time for breakfast," said Gipsy, demurely.