Part 80 (2/2)
”Well, will you promise to go away, mother, and never come and ask no more if I give you something this time?”
”To be sure I will, my dear, of course. There, be quick, before any one comes, and do it up neat in a napkin, there's a good gal, and I'll bring you a lobster next time I come.”
”There, now, and you promised you wouldn't come no more.”
”Ah, well, I won't then, my dear.”
”Then I'll get you a bit this time; but mind, never no more.”
”No, never no more, my beauty. Only be quick.”
Liza disappeared, and Poll Perrow took off her basket and sat down on the edge, rubbing her knees and laughing heartily to herself, but smoothing her countenance again directly, as she heard her daughter's step.
”There, mother,” whispered Liza, ”and I feel just as if there was the police after me, same as they was after Master Harry. This is the last time, mind.”
”Yes, my beauty, the last time. What is there?”
”No, no, don't open it,” cried the girl, laying her hand sharply upon the parcel she had given to her mother. ”There's half a pork pie, and a piece of seed cake, and a bit o' chicken.”
”Any bread?”
”Yes, lots. Now hide it in your basket, and go.”
”To be sure I will, Liza.” And the white napkin and its contents were soon hidden under a piece of fis.h.i.+ng-net. ”There, good-bye, my dear.
You'll be glad you've helped your poor old mother, that you will, and-- Good mornin', Miss Margreet.”
”Put that basket down,” said the old lady sharply, as she stood gazing imperiously at the detected pair.
”Put the basket down, miss?”
”Yes, directly. I am glad I came down and caught you in the act.
Shameful! Disgraceful! Liza, take out that parcel of food stolen from my brother.”
”No, no, Miss Margreet, only broken wittles, as would be thrown away.”
Liza stooped down, sobbing, and pulled the bundle out of the basket.
”I always said you'd be the ruin of me, mother,” she sobbed.
”No, no, my dear,” cried the woman; ”Miss Margreet won't be hard on us.
Let me have it, miss, do please.”
”Go away!” cried Aunt Marguerite fiercely.
”Pray, pray do, miss,” cried the woman imploringly.
<script>