“O, no!” says she. “There was no bedding with him.” He conned her shrewdly. He was already beginning to recover himself, and to suspect a hussy under this rose. “Why not?” he said. “He was that jealous,” she answered, “if the moon looked in at the window, he would accuse me of making eyes at the man in her.” “That was in Wiltshire?” “Where our home was, sure.” “And so you left him?” “Mr. Bedding came by, and took me to sing for him. But a strolling company was never to my taste.” “So you left it and came to town?” “I went home again.” “To your husband?” “No, he was gone.” “Gone?” “He had taken umbrage, as they call it--he was always one to mind a little thing--and off’d with it to Jericho, leaving me nothing but his curse--not so much as a sixpence beside.” “And so you followed him--to Jericho?” “Not I. I followed my own inclinations, and they brought me here.” “Well, inclinations spend more than they hoard, as a rule. Haven’t you found it so?” “Sure, I’ve no need to hoard, when kind gentlemen pay my bills for me.” “That’s as it may be, Mrs. ---- By the by, what _is_ your name?” “Mary Davis, by your leave, kind sir; but my intimates call me Moll. Please, what is yours?” “George Hamilton, Moll.” “That’s a good name, George. Are you of the King’s Court?” “I’ve been there.” “I do so long to see the King--a dear, kind gentleman. They call him in our parts the father of his people. Is he?” “Well,--of quite a number of them. Why do you want to see the King?” “Only--O, just to see him!” George wagged a finger at the artless young baggage. “O-ho! Mrs. Mollinda,” says he. “Does the wind lie that way? You have begun early, true enough; and you’ll not fail for lack of confidence in your pretty wits. But it’s a long climb from the cradle to the four-poster.” He laughed. “Upon my word--the baby’s assurance! and by way of such obstacles!” She turned pained, troubled eyes on the scoffer, making as if to rise. “What have I said in my innocence?” “Nothing at all,” says he. “Your innocence never spoke a word. But, by God! your looks are voluble. I’ faith, you’re the sweetest darling, Mrs. Moll, and for that I’ll be your friend, if you will, as a decent young gentleman should. What would you have me do? Find your husband for you?” “Alack! Is that to be my friend?” “The best, maybe--but by and by. Who knows? He may come to serve us with royalty yet. Do you trust me, Moll?” “Sure a poor girl like me must live on trust.” “So she must, and live very well too. Did that rogue of a landlord really keep you fast?” “On my honour he did.” “Don’t swear by false idols.” “What have I said now?” “That he put you on your honour.” “No, that he did not. My honour’s not for such as him.” “No, indeed. It flies at higher game. Well, he must keep you still, for a while.” “Not he!”