“You are so impatient, Henry,” replied Frank, “you would know every thing, and the reasons thereof at once; but I shall not spoil the story of my best adventure during your absence, to satisfy your impetuous curiosity. _Il faut toujours commencer au commencement._ You must hear the narrative of our first introduction, or you close my lips for ever on the subject of Nanny Rudd; for if there is an action in the course of my military career of which I am proud, it is the deed of ‘derring do,’ as Ivanhoe would have called it, which first won me her esteem.” “Come, be quick then,” said Henry, laughing; “when, how, and where did you meet with this wondrous lady?” “More questions! Henry? you are positively incorrigible! Our first acquaintance was on this wise: a parcel of young urchins were playing on the walk where she usually sits with her basket, and one of them attempted to obtain some of her tartlets without going through the necessary form of paying for them. Nanny, who hears like a mole, made a dash at the young rogue, just as he had his hand in the basket, and seizing him with a hand of iron began to thrash him well with her stick, reproving him at the same time for his misconduct with a considerable flow of military eloquence. The other boys came to the rescue. Nanny kept her hold, and brandished her stick. Their charge, however, was not to be resisted; they released their companion, gained possession of the basket, from which Nanny had wandered in the struggle, and were retiring triumphant, when I reached the field. “In an instant I flew to the succour of the discomfited fair, routed her insulting foes, and recovered for her her (empty) basket. Cæsar would have said, _Veni, vidi, vici!_ I then led her to her old seat, and having given her half-a-crown was taking my departure, in order to enjoy in solitude the satisfaction of having exhibited both valour and generosity, when she said to me in her own sweet accents,—