“I'm glad to hear it, sir, for the sinners is plenty enough.”
“Very good, Nanny; well said. Here's half a crown to reward your wit.”
“No, no, Mr. Hycy: I'm thankful to you; but you know I won't take it.”
“Nanny, are you aware that it was I who caused you to be taken into this family?”
“No,” sir; “but I think it's very likely you'll be the cause of my going out of it.”
“It certainly is not improbable, Nanny. I will have no self-willed, impracticable girls here.”
“You won't have me here long, then, unless you mend your manners, Mr. Hycy.”
“Well, well, Nanny; let us not quarrel at all events. I will be late out to-night, so that you must sit up and let me in. No, no, Nanny, we must not quarrel; and if I have got fond of you, how can I help it? It's very natural thing, you know, to love a pretty girl.”
“But not so natural to lave her, Mr. Hycy, as you have left others before now—I needn't name them—widout name, or fame, or hope, or happiness in this world.”
“I won't be in until late, Nanny,” he replied, coolly. “Sit up for me. You're a sharp one, but I can't spare you yet a while;” and, having nodded to her with a remarkably benign aspect he went out.