“Niver see anything to aquil it,” replied the old lady, putting on her spectacles and gazing around her with many a convulsive motion of the head. “Why, Sairey, them’s our best cups!”
“Yes, I told you I was usin’ them. Don’t you see the little gal, mother?”
“See her? Yes,—of course I do. But she don’t want an old ’ooman like me to kiss her, eh, my pretty? I’m very much obleeged, sir,” dropping a creaking courtesy, “for the sight o’ this table.”
“Would your mother like one of these cakes for her tea?” said Holdsworth.
“Oh, sir, you’re very good.—Mother, the gentleman wants to know if you’ll accept of one of these cakes for your tea?”
“Thank ye, sir. I relish a bit o’ somethin’ sweet now and agin,” replied the old lady, dropping another courtesy as she received the cake. “I was cook to Squire Harrowden, lar’ bless yer! I dessay it were years afore you was born, and they did say as there niver was my aquil i’ the makin’ o’ pie-crust. I’ve cooked for as many as a hundred and tin persons, ay, that I have,” with intense earnestness, “as Sairey’ll bear me witness, for she’s heerd the story from her own father, as was gamekeeper to the Squire, an’ a more likely man you niver see, sir. His name was Cramp, which he was a Croydon man, as you may happen to know the name if you was iver in them parts.”
“Come, mother, we have stopped long enough,” exclaimed Mrs. Parrot, putting her hand upon the old lady’s arm.
They both courtesied; and then the old woman let fall the cake, which rolled under the table. Holdsworth recovered it for her, which act of condescension was so overwhelming that she let the cake fall again; on which Mrs. Parrot lost her temper, and hurried the old dame through the door at a velocity to which her legs were quite unused, and possibly quite unequal. She might be heard feebly remonstrating in a voice similar to the sound a key makes when turned in a rusty lock; and then the door was closed, and Holdsworth and Nelly were left alone.
If Mrs. Parrot had dared, she would have been glad to advise Holdsworth “not to let the little gal eat too much, there bein’ nothing worse nor sweetstuff for young stomachs, which finds milk-and-water sometimes too much for ’em.” But, happily, Nelly was not a glutton; besides, the majority of human beings at her age eat only as much as they want, and no more; we wait until our judgment is matured, until life is precious, until we have experienced most of the distempers which arise from an overloaded stomach, before making ourselves thoroughly ill with over-feeding!