“There is indeed, miss,” continued Alice,
“And pray, Alice,” asked her mistress, “how do you know that?”
“Why, miss,” replied the girl, “I am told that of late he is looking very ill, too. They say he has lost his spirits all to pieces, and seldom laughs—the Lord save us!”
“They say!—who say, Alice?”
“Why,” replied Alice, with a perceptible heightening of her color, “ahem! ahem! why, Dandy Dulcimer, miss.”
“And where have you seen him? Dulcimer, I mean. He, I suppose, who used occasionally to play upon the instrument of that name in the Hall?”
“Yes, ma'am, the same. Don't you remember how beautiful he played it the night we came in the coach to town?”
“I remember there was something very-unpleasant between him and a farmer, I believe; but I did not pay much attention to it at the time.”
“I am sorry for that, miss, for I declare to goodness, Dandy's dulcimer isn't such an unpleasant instrument as you think; and, besides, he has got a new one the other day that plays lovely.”
Lucy felt a good deal anxious to hear some further information from Alley upon the subject she had introduced, but saw that Dandy and his dulcimer were likely to be substituted for it, all unconscious as the poor girl was of the preference of the man to the master.