“Sam married! God bless my soul, sir, you don’t mean that!”
“And to such a nice creature, dear Mr. Huxter.”
“Her Ladyship is charmed with her,” said Pen, telling almost the first fib which he has told in the course of this story.
“Married! the rascal, is he?” thought the old gentleman.
“They will do it, sir,” said Pen; and went and opened the door. Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Huxter issued thence, and both came and knelt down before the old gentleman. The kneeling little Fanny found favour in his sight. There must have been some thing attractive about her, in spite of Laura’s opinion.
“Will never do so any more, sir,” said Sam.
“Get up, sir,” said Mr. Huxter. And they got up, and Fanny came a little nearer and a little nearer still, and looked so pretty and pitiful, that somehow Mr. Huxter found himself kissing the little crying-laughing thing, and feeling as if he liked it.
“What’s your name, my dear?” he said, after a minute of this sport.
“Fanny, papa,” said Mrs. Samuel.