"Oh, Dolly, Dolly, I don't know what to say," said Lady Maude gently, as she gave her hair a whisk and sent it all flying to one side. "I don't want to send you back home." "No, no, no, my lady, please don't do that," blubbered the girl. "But her ladyship is thinking very seriously about it, Dolly, and you see you were found talking to him." "Ye--ye--yes, my lady." "But, you foolish girl, don't you understand that he is little better than a beggar--an Italian mendicant?" "Ye-ye-yes, my lady." "Then how can you be so foolish?" "I--I--I don't know, my lady." "You, a respectable farmer's daughter, to think of taking up with a low man who goes about the streets turning the handle of an organ. Dolly, Dolly, my poor girl, what does it mean?" "I--I--I don't know, my lady. Ow! I am so miserable." "Of course you are, my good girl. There, promise me you'll forget it all, and I'll speak to her ladyship, and tell her you'll be more sensible, and get her to let you stay." "I--I can't, my lady." "Cannot what?" "Forget him, my lady." "Why not?" "Be-be-because he is so handsome." "Oh, Dolly, I've no patience with you." "N-n-no, my lady, because you--you ain't--ain't in love," sobbed the girl with angry vehemence, as she covered her face with her hands and rocked herself to and fro. "For shame, Dolly," cried Maude, with her face flamingly red. "If a woman is in love that is no reason for her degrading herself. I'm shocked at you." "Ye-ye-yes, my lady, bu-bu-but you don't know; you--you--you haven't felt it yet. Wh-wh-when it comes over you some day, you--you--you'll be as bad as I am. Ow! ow! ow! I'm a wretched, unhappy girl." "Then rouse yourself and think no more of this fellow. For shame of you!" "I--I can't, my lady. He--he--he's so handsome, and I've tried ever so to give him up, but he takes hold of you like." "Takes hold of you, Dolly? Oh, for shame!" "I--I d-d-d-don't mean with his hands, my lady, b-b-but with his great dark eyes, miss, and--and he fixes you like; and once you're like I am you're always seeing them, and they're looking right into you, and it makes you--you--you feel as if you must go where he tells you to, and-- and I can't help it, and I'm a wretched, unhappy girl." "You are indeed," said Maude with spirit. "It is degrading in the extreme. An organ-grinder--pah!" "It--it--it don't matter what he is, my lady," sobbed Dolly. "It's the man does it. And--and some day wh-wh-when you feel as I do, miss, you'll--" "Silence," cried Lady Maude. "I'll hear no more such nonsense. Get up, you foolish girl, and go on brushing my hair. You shall think no more of that wretched creature."