knows? as I said before, gold and fine clothes
are great temptations."

"Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never have thought you so
depraved."

"Indeed, brother."

"To think that I am seated by one who is willing to--to . . ."

"Go on, brother."

"To play the thief."

"Go on, brother."

"The liar."

"Go on, brother."

"The--the . . ."

"Go on, brother."

"The--the lubbeny."

"The what, brother?" said Ursula, starting from her seat.

"Why, the lubbeny; don't you . . ."

"I tell you what, brother," said Ursula, looking somewhat pale, and
speaking very low, "if I had only something in my hand, I would do you a
mischief."

"Why, what is the matter, Ursula?" said I; "how have I offended you?"

"How have you offended me? Why, didn't you insinivate just now that I
was ready to play the--the . . ."

"Go on, Ursula."

"The--the . . . I'll not say it; but I only wish I had something in my
hand."

"If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry for it; any offence I may
have given you was from want of understanding you. Come, pray be seated,
I have much to question you about--to talk to you about."

"Seated, not I! It was only just now that you gave me to understand that
you was ashamed to be seated by me, a thief, a liar."

"Well, did you not almost give me to understand that you were both,
Ursula?"

"I don't much care being called a thief and a liar," said Ursula; "a
person may be a liar and a thief, and yet a very honest woman, but . . ."

"Well, Ursula."

"I tell you what, brother, if you ever sinivate again that I could be the
third thing, so help me duvel! I'll do you a mischief. By my God I
will!"

"Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sinivate, as you call it,
nothing of the kind about you. I have no doubt, from what you have said,
that you are a very paragon of virtue--a perfect Lucretia; but . . ."

"My name is Ursula, brother, and not Lucretia: Lucretia is not of our
family, but one of the Bucklands; she travels about Oxfordshire; yet I am
as good as she any day."

"Lucretia! how odd! Where could she have got that name? Well, I make no
doubt, Ursula, that you are quite as good as she, and she as her namesake
of ancient Rome; but there is a mystery in this same virtue, Ursula,
which I cannot fathom; how a thief and a liar should be able, or indeed
willing, to preserve her virtue is what I don't understand. You confess
that you are very fond of gold. Now, how is i