"No, I haven't, gran'fa. I know exactly how you like it. There! hold still while I fetch you a light. There! there, then. Now pull. Don't you remember how you used to puff the smoke in my face and make me cough?" "Ay; and I 'member how you tried to smoke my pipe, and how sick it made you." "Yes, I remember," said Dally, clapping her hands. "Ah! how happy I used to be then with you, gran'fa! Do you remember how you used to take me to the church?" "Ay," grunted the old man, puffing away, with a dreamy look in his face. "And how you used to pretend to bury yourself in the graves when you were digging, so as to frighten me?" "Ah!" grunted Moredock. "Then there was that old skull, gran'fa, that I had to play with. What became of that skull?" "Up in the cupboard in your old bedroom," grunted Moredock. "How happy I used to be then!" sighed Dally, stroking a thin wisp off her grandfather's hideous old forehead. "Ah, you was a good little gel then, and thought about your poor old gran'fa, and didn't come bothering him for money." "Yes, I did, gran'fa--for sweeties," said Dally. "Ay; but I wouldn't give you none, gel." "Yes, you did sometimes, gran'fa; and so you would now to buy some nice things--a pretty bonnet--if I asked you." "Nay, I wouldn't. And I knew it. You've come a-purpose to worry me out of some money." "No, I haven't, gran'fa." "Ay, but you have. I know. Look here, how's that going on? If it's going to be my leddy, you shall have as much as you want; but not without. Is he courting of you?" "No, gran'fa." "Whaaart?" "Only sometimes, gran'fa; and that's what made me come to you." "You--you haven't come for the brass?" "No, gran'fa, I want you to help me, for I'm such a miserable little girl." "What about?--what about?" cried the old man, smoking furiously, and staring with a peculiarly angry look at the girl. "I wanted to tell you, gran'fa," cried Dally, plumping herself down at the old man's feet, and laying her rosy cheek upon his corduroy-covered knee, stained with the clay from many a grave. "It's all such a muddle." "What is?--what is?" "Why, everything," cried Dally, with a petulant twitch; "but he's not going to play with me. He's told me many a time that he'd marry me, and make me Lady Candlish; and he shall, shan't he, gran'fa?" "Ay, that he shall," cried the old man, patting Dally's curly head. "That's sperrit, that is. You keep him to it. But what's all a muddle?" "Why, everything, gran'fa," cried Dally, bursting into tears, and speaking in an excited, passionate way. "But he shall marry me; and you'll help me make him, won't you, gran'fa?" "Ay, that I will, my pretty. That's the way. Don't you be beat." "I won't; and I won't have him come courting Leo Salis." "Nay, you won't," said the old man, smoking away as he patted the fierce little creature's head. "He said it was all nonsense, and I believed him because he was so fond of me; but he courts her, too."