“I’ve come to ask for Fancy,” said Dick.
“I’d as lief you hadn’t.”
“Why should that be, Mr. Day?”
“Because it makes me say that you’ve come to ask what ye be’n’t likely to have. Have ye come for anything else?”
“Nothing.”
“Then I’ll just tell ’ee you’ve come on a very foolish errand. D’ye know what her mother was?”
“No.”
“A teacher in a landed family’s nursery, who was foolish enough to marry the keeper of the same establishment; for I was only a keeper then, though now I’ve a dozen other irons in the fire as steward here for my lord, what with the timber sales and the yearly fellings, and the gravel and sand sales and one thing and ’tother. However, d’ye think Fancy picked up her good manners, the smooth turn of her tongue, her musical notes, and her knowledge of books, in a homely hole like this?”
“No.”
“D’ye know where?”