Part 68 (2/2)

”No, you won't, Miss Rouse. She is a poor soul, and has got no business except letting lodgings; she is not like you. But I do hope she will be so kind as not to come quite through the wall.”

”Dear heart!” said Nancy, ”go on, and never mind her noise, which it is worse than a horgan-grinder.”

”Well, then, if you can't find him that way, I say--Advertise.”

”Me!” cried Nancy, turning very red. ”Do I look like a woman as would advertise for a man?”

”No, ma'am. Quite the reverse. But what I mean is, you might put in something not too plain. For instance: If J. W. will return to N. R., all will be forgotten and forgiven.”

”He'd have the upper hand of me for life,” said Nancy. ”No, no; I won't advertise for the fool. What right had he to run off at the first word?

He ought to know my bark is worse than my bite by this time. You can, though.”

”Me bite, ma'am?” said the old gentleman.

”Bite? no. Advertise, since you're so fond of it. Come, you sit down and write one; and I'll pay for it, for that matter.”

Michael sat down, and drew up the following: ”If Mr. Joseph Wylie will call on Michael Penfold, at No. 3 E. C., he will hear of something to his advantage.”

”To his advantage?” said Nancy, doubtfully. ”Why not tell him the truth?”

”Why, that is the truth, ma'am. Isn't it to his advantage to be reconciled to an honest, virtuous, painstaking lady, that honors him with her affection--and me with her friends.h.i.+p? Besides, it is the common form; and there is nothing like sticking to form.”

”Mr. Penfold,” said Nancy, ”any one can see you was born a gentleman; and I am a deal prouder to have you and your was.h.i.+ng than I should him as pays you your wages. Pale eyes--pale hair--pale eyebrows--I wouldn't trust him to mangle a duster.”

”Oh, Miss Rouse! Pray don't disparage my good master to me.”

”I can't help it, sir. Thought is free, especially in this here compartment. Better speak one's mind than die o' the sulks. So shut your ear when my music jars. But one every other day is enough. If he won't come back for that, why, he must go, and I must look out for another; there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it. Still, I'll not deny I have a great respect for poor Joe. Oh, Mr. Penfold, what shall I do! Oh, oh, oh!”

”There, there,” said Michael, ”I'll put this into the _Times_ every day.”

”You are a good soul, Mr. Penfold. Oh--oh, oh!”

When he had finished the advertis.e.m.e.nt in a clerkly hand, and she had finished her cry, she felt comparatively comfortable, and favored Mr.

Penfold with some reflections.

”Dear heart, Mr. Penfold, how you and I do take to one another, to be sure. But so we ought; for we are honest folk, the pair, and has had a hard time. Don't it never strike you rather curious that two thousand pounds was at the bottom of both our troubles, yourn and mine? I might have married Joe, and been a happy woman with him; but the Devil puts in my head-- There you go again hammering! Life ain't worth having next door to that lodging-house. Drat the woman, if she must peck, why don't she go in the churchyard and peck her own grave; which we shall never be quiet till she is there. And these here gimcrack houses, they won't stand no more pecking at than a soap-sud. Ay, that's what hurts me, Mr. Penfold.

The Lord had given him and me health and strength and honesty; our betters had wed for love and wrought for money, as the saying is; but I must go again Nature, that cried 'Come couple'; and must bargain for two thousand pounds. So now I've lost the man, and not got the money, nor never shall. And, if I had, I'd burn-- Ah--ah--ah--ah--ah!”

This tirade ended in stifled screams of terror, caused by the sudden appearance of a human hand, in a place and in a manner well adapted to shake the stoutest laundress's nerves.

This hand came through the brick-work of the chimney-place, and there remained a moment or two. Then slowly retired, and as it retired something was heard to fall upon the shavings and tinsel of the fireplace.

Nancy, by a feminine impulse, put her hands before her face, to hide this supernatural hand; and, when she found courage to withdraw them, and glare at the place, there was no aperture whatever in the brick-work; and, consequently, the hand appeared to have traversed the solid material, both coming and going.

”Oh, Mr. Penfold,” cried Nancy; ”I'm a sinful woman. This comes of talking of the Devil arter sunset;” and she sat trembling so that the very floor shook.

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