“Sure, an’ he did more than that,” exclaimed Matty, regarding the boy with sudden interest. “If that was yer brother that saved Miss Loo he’s a ra’al man—”
“Saved Loo!” cried Miss Tippet; “was it your brother that saved Loo?”
“Yes, ma’am, it was.”
“Bless him; he is a noble fellow, and I have great pleasure in taking you by the hand for his sake.”
Miss Tippet suited the action to the word, and seized Willie’s hand, which she squeezed warmly. Matty Merryon, with tears in her eyes, embraced him, and said that she only wished she had the chance of embracing his brother, too. Then they all said he must stay to lunch, as it was about lunchtime, and Miss Tippet added that he deserved to have been born in a higher position in life—at least his brother did, which was the same thing, for he was a true what’s-’is-name, who ought to be crowned with thingumyjigs.
Emma, who had latterly been looking at Willie with deepening respect, immediately crowned him with laurels on the slate, and then Matty rushed away for the lunch-tray—rejoicing in the fire, that had sent her back so soon to the old mistress whom she never wanted to leave; that had afforded scope for the display of such heroism, and had brought about altogether such an agreeable state of unwonted excitation.
Just as the party were on the point of sitting down to luncheon, the street-door knocker was applied to the door with an extremely firm touch.
“Miss Deemas!” exclaimed Miss Tippet. “Oh! I’m so glad. Rush, Matty.”
Matty rushed, and immediately there was a sound on the wooden passage as of a gentleman with heavy boots. A moment later, and Matty ushered in a very tall, broad-shouldered, strapping lady; if we may venture to use that expression in reference to one of the fair sex.
Miss Deemas was a sort of human eagle. She had an eagle eye, an aquiline nose, an eagle flounce, and an eagle heart. Going up to Miss Tippet, she put a hand on each of her shoulders, and stooping down, pecked her, so to speak, on each cheek.