, sir!" said Alice, "don't go! Don't think of going,
sir! She does not mind killing anybody, I assure you, sir."

"Oh, Mr Hope, don't go!" cried almost everybody. Maria was sure she
heard Hester's voice among the rest. The young countrywoman and the
children grasped the skirts of his coat; but he shook them off,
laughing, and went. Little Mary loved Mr Hope very dearly. She shot
out at the door with him, and clasped her hands before Mrs Plumstead,
looking up piteously, as if to implore her to do Mr Hope no harm.
Already, however, the vixen's mood had changed. At the first glimpse of
Mr Hope, her voice sank from being a squall into some resemblance to
human utterance. She pulled her cap forward, and a tinge of colour
returned to her white lips. Mr Enderby caught up little Mary and
carried her to her mamma, crying bitterly. Mr Hope might safely be
left to finish his conquest of the otherwise unconquerable scold. He
stood still till he could make himself heard, looking her full in the
face; and it was not long before she would listen to his remonstrance,
and even at length take his advice, to go home and compose herself. He
went with her, to ensure the good behaviour of her neighbours, and had
the satisfaction of seeing her lock herself into her house alone before
he returned to his party.

"It is as you told me," said Margaret to Mr Enderby; "Mr Hope's power
extends even to the temper of the Deerbrook scold. How she began to
grow quiet directly! It was like magic."

Mr Enderby smiled; but there was some uneasiness in his smile.

The countrywoman was commended to the servants, to be refreshed, and
dismissed another way. There was no further reason for detaining her
when it appeared that she really could give no account of how she had
offended Mrs Plumstead in selling her a pound of butter. It remained
to console little Mary, who was still crying,--more from grief for Mrs
Plumstead than from fear, Maria thought, though Mrs Grey was profuse in
assurances to the child that Mrs Plumstead should not be allowed to
frighten her any more. All the children seemed so depressed and
confounded, that their guests exerted themselves to be merry again, and
to efface, as far as was possible, the impression of the late scene.
When Mr Hope returned, he found Mr Grey singing his single ditty,
about Dame Dumshire and her crockery-ware, amidst great mirth and
unbounded applause. Then Mrs Enderby was fluttered, and somewhat