t have been a dry eye in the house."

RUGGE. "I disdain your sneer. When a scorpion nursed at my bosom sneers
at me, I leave it to its own reflections. But I don't speak of the years
in which that scorpion has been enjoying a salary and smoking canaster
at my expense. I refer to an earlier dodge in its checkered existence.
Ha, sir, you wince! I suspect I can find out something about you which
would--"

WAIFE (fiercely).--"Would what?"

RUGGE.--"Oh, lower your tone, sir; no bullying me. I suspect! I have
good reason for suspicion; and if you sneak off in this way, and cheat
me out of my property in Juliet Araminta, I will leave no stone unturned
to prove what I suspect: look to it, slight man! Come, I don't wish to
quarrel; make it up, and" (drawing out his pocket-book) "if you want
cash down, and will have an engagement in black and white for three
years for Juliet Araminta, you may squeeze a good sum out of me, and go
yourself where you please: you'll never be troubled by me. What I want
is the girl."

All the actor laid aside, Waife growled out, "And hang me; sir, if you
shall have the girl!"

At this moment Sophy opened the door wide, and entered boldly. She had
heard her grandfather's voice raised, though its hoarse tones did not
allow her to distinguish his words. She was alarmed for him. She came
in, his guardian fairy, to protect him from the oppressor of six feet
high. Rugge's arm was raised, not indeed to strike, but rather to
declaim. Sophy slid between him and her grandfather, and, clinging round
the latter, flung out her own arm, the forefinger raised menacingly
towards the Remorseless Baron. How you would have clapped if you had
seen her so at Covent Garden! But I'll swear the child did not know she
was acting. Rugge did, and was struck with admiration and regretful rage
at the idea of losing her.

"Bravo!" said he, involuntarily. "Come, come, Waife, look at her: she
was born for the stage. My heart swells with pride. She is my property,
morally speaking; make her so legally; and hark, in your ear, fifty
pounds. Take me in the humour,--Golconda opens,--fifty pounds!"

"No," said the vagrant.

"Well," said Rugge, sullenly; "let her speak for herself."

"Speak, child. You don't wish to return to Mr. Rugge,--and without me,
too,--do you, Sophy?"

"Without you, Grandy! I'd rather die first."

"You hear her; all is settled between us. You have had our services up
to last night; you have paid us up