“Leave her, Popham, my darling blessing!—leave that woman!” cries Lady Baker. “I won’t, you old beast!—and she sha-a-ant go. And I wish you was dead—and, my dear, you shan’t go, and Pa shan’t let you!”—shouts the boy. “O, Popham, if Miss Prior has been naughty, Miss Prior must go!” says Cecilia, tossing up her head. “Spoken like my daughter’s child!” cries Lady Baker: and little Cissy, having flung her little stone, looks as if she had performed a very virtuous action. “God bless you, Master Pop,—you are a trump, you are!” says Mr. Bedford. “Yes, that I am, Bedford; and she shan’t go, shall she?” cries the boy. But Bessy stooped down sadly, and kissed him. “Yes, I must, dear,” she said. “Don’t touch him! Come away, sir! Come away from her this moment!” shrieked the two mothers. “I nursed him through the scarlet fever, when his own mother would not come near him,” says Elizabeth, gently. “I’m blest if she didn’t,” sobs Bedford—“and—bub—bub—bless you, Master Pop!” “That child is wicked enough, and headstrong enough, and rude enough already!” exclaims Lady Baker. “I desire, young woman, you will not pollute him farther!” “That’s a hard word to say to an honest woman, ma’am,” says Bedford. “Pray, miss, are you engaged to the butler, too?” hisses out the dowager. “There’s very little the matter with Maxwell’s child—only teeth. What on earth has happened? My dear Lizzy—my dear Miss Prior—what is it?” cries the doctor, who enters from the garden at this juncture. “Nothing has happened, only this young woman has appeared in a new _character_,” says Lady Baker. “My son has just informed us that Miss Prior danced upon the stage, Mr. Drencher; and if you think such a person is a fit companion for your mothers and sisters, who attend a place of Christian worship, I believe—I wish you joy.” “Is this—is this—true?” asks the doctor, with a look of bewilderment. “Yes, it is true,” sighs the girl. “And you never told me, Elizabeth?” groans the doctor. “She’s as honest as any woman here,” calls out Bedford. “She gave all the money to her family.” “It wasn’t fair not to tell me. It wasn’t fair,” sobs the doctor. And he gives her a ghastly parting look, and turns his back. “I say, you—Hi! What-d’-you-call-’em? Sawbones!” shrieks out Captain Clarence. “Come back, I say. She’s all right, I say. Upon my honour, now, she’s all right.” “Miss P. shouldn’t have kept this from me. My mother and sisters are dissenters, and very strict. I couldn’t ask a party into my family who has been—who has been——I wish you good morning,” says the doctor, and stalks away. “And now, will you please to get your things ready and go, too,” continues Lady Baker. “My dear Mrs. Bonnington, you think——” “Certainly, certainly, she must go!” cries Mrs. Bonnington.