rmation. But, he told nothing signally new. She wished to hear
something new and striking, "because," she said, "when I unpin Miss
Laura at night, I'm as likely as not to get a silk dress that ain't been
worn more than half-a-dozen times--if I manage. When I told her that Mr.
Albert, her brother, had dined at your place last Thursday--demeaning
of himself, I do think--there!--I got a pair of silk stockings,--not
letting her see I knew what it was for, of coursed and about Mrs.
Dump,--Stump;--I can't recollect the woman's name; and her calling of
your master a bankrupt, right out, and wanting her money of him,--there!
if Miss Laura didn't give me a pair of lavender kid-gloves out of
her box!--and I wish you would leave my hands alone, when you know I
shouldn't be so silly as to wear them in the dark; and for you, indeed!"

But Gainsford persisted, upon which there was fooling. All this was too
childish for Sir Purcell to think it necessary to give warning of his
presence. They passed, and when they had gone a short way the damsel
cried, "Well, that is something," and stopped. "Married in a month!" she
exclaimed. "And you don't know which one?"

"No," returned Gainsford; "master said 'one of you' as they was at
dinner, just as I come into the room. He was in jolly spirits, and kept
going so: 'What's a month! champagne, Gainsford,' and you should have
sees Mrs.--not Stump, but Chump. She'll be tipsy to-night, and I shall
bust if I have to carry of her upstairs. Well, she is fun!--she don't
mind handin' you a five-shilling piece when she's done tender: but I
have nearly lost my place two or three time along of that woman. She'd
split logs with laughing:--no need of beetle and wedges! 'Och!' she
sings out, 'by the piper!'--and Miss Cornelia sitting there--and,
'Arrah!'--bother the woman's Irish," (thus Gainsford gave up the effort
at imitation, with a spirited Briton's mild contempt for what he
could not do) "she pointed out Miss Cornelia and said she was like the
tinker's dog:--there's the bone he wants himself, and the bone he don't
want anybody else to have. Aha! ain't it good?"

"Oh! the tinker's dog! won't I remember that!" said the damsel, "she
can't be such a fool."

"Well, I don't know," Gainsford meditated critically. "She is; and yet
she ain't, if you understand me. What I feel about her is--hang it! she
makes ye laugh."

Sir Purcell moved from the shadow of the tree as noiselessly as he
could, so that this en