, nodding her head sadly, "I'm too
retched to have any happytite." And she flung herself on a chair, and
began to cry fit to bust.

At this moment who should come in but my master. I had taken hold of
Miss Mary's hand, somehow, and do believe I should have kist it, when,
as I said, Haltamont made his appearance. "What's this?" cries he,
lookin at me as black as thunder, or as Mr. Phillips as Hickit, in the
new tragedy of MacBuff.

"It's only Miss Mary, sir," answered I.

"Get out, sir," says he, as fierce as posbil; and I felt somethink (I
think it was the tip of his to) touching me behind, and found myself,
nex minit, sprawling among the wet flannings and buckets and things.

The people from up stairs came to see what was the matter, as I was
cussin and crying out. "It's only Charles, ma," screamed out Miss Betsy.

"Where's Mary?" says Mrs. Shum, from the sofy.

"She's in Master's room, miss," said I.

"She's in the lodger's room, ma," cries Miss Shum, heckoing me.

"Very good; tell her to stay there till he comes back." And then Miss
Shum went bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of Haltamont's
return.

. . . . . .

I'd long before observed that my master had an anchoring after Mary
Shum; indeed, as I have said, it was purely for her sake that he took
and kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Excep for the sake of love, which
is above being mersnary, fourteen shillings a wick was a LITTLE too
strong for two such rat-holes as he lived in. I do blieve the famly
had nothing else but their lodger to live on: they brekfisted off his
tea-leaves, they cut away pounds and pounds of meat from his jints (he
always dined at home), and his baker's bill was at least enough for six.
But that wasn't my business. I saw him grin, sometimes, when I laid down
the cold bif of a morning, to see how little was left of yesterday's
sirline; but he never said a syllabub: for true love don't mind a pound
of meat or so hextra.

At first, he was very kind and attentive to all the gals; Miss Betsy,
in partickler, grew mighty fond of him: they sat, for whole evenings,
playing cribbitch, he taking his pipe and glas, she her tea and muffing;
but as it was improper for her to come alone, she brought one of her
sisters, and this was genrally Mary,--for he made a pint of asking her,
too,--and one day, when one of the others came instead, he told her,
very quitely, that he hadn't invited her; and Miss Buckmaster