“How long have you been in this family?”
“I'm in the first month of my second quarter, your honor,” with a courtesy.
“You are a pretty girl.”
Nancy, with another courtesy, and a simper, which vanity, for the life of her, could not suppress, “Oh la, sir, how could your honor say such a thing of a humble girl like me? You that sees so many handsome great ladies.”
“Have you a sweetheart?”
Nancy fairly tittered. “Is it me, sir—why, who would think of the like of me? Not one, sir, ever I had.”
“Because, if you have,” he proceeded, “and that I approve of him, I wouldn't scruple much to give you something that might enable you and your husband to begin the world with comfort.”
“I'm sure it's very kind, your honor, but I never did anything to desarve so much goodness at your honor's hands.”
“The old villain wants to bribe me for something,” thought Nancy.
“Well, but you may, my good girl. I think you are a favorite with Miss Gourlay?”