“Why not, my love? Between friends, can there be any harm in showing one’s talents? You that have such talents to show. She’ll keep your secret, I’ll answer for her; and,” added she, “you needn’t be afraid of her criticism; for, between you and me, she’s no great critic; so you’ll come. Well, thank you, that’s settled. How you have made me beg and pray! but you know your own value, I see; as you entertaining people always do. One must ask a wit, like a fine singer, so often. Well, but now for the favour I was going to ask you.” Frederick looked surprised; for he thought that the favour of his company was what she meant: but she explained herself farther. “As to the old Quaker who lodges above, old Ephraim Eden—my Lady Battersby and I have so much diversion about him. He is the best character, the oddest creature! If you were but to see him come into the rooms with those stiff skirts, or walking with his eternal sister Bertha, and his everlasting broad-brimmed hat! One knows him a mile off! But then his voice and way, and altogether, if one could get them to the life, they’d be better than anything on the stage; better even than anything I’ve seen to-night; and I think you’d make a capital Quaker for my Lady Battersby; but then the thing is, one can never get to hear the old quiz talk. Now you, who have so much invention and cleverness—I have no invention myself; but could you not hit upon some way of seeing him, so that you might get him by heart? I’m sure you, who are so quick, would only want to see him, and hear him, for half a minute, to be able to take him off, so as to kill one with laughing. But I have no invention.” “Oh, as to the invention,” said Frederick, “I know an admirable way of doing the thing, if that is all; but then remember, I don’t say I will do the thing, for I will not. But I know a way of getting up into his room, and seeing him, without his knowing me to be there.” “Oh, tell it me, you charming, clever creature!” “But, remember, I do not say I will do it.” “Well, well, let us hear it; and you shall do as you please afterwards. Merciful goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Tattle, “do my ears deceive me? I declare I looked round, and thought I heard the squeaking chimney-sweeper was in the room!” “So did I, Frederick, I declare,” cried Marianne, laughing, “I never heard anything so like his voice in my life.” Frederick imitated the squeaking voice of this chimney-sweeper to great perfection. “Now,” continued he, “this fellow is just my height. The old Quaker, if my face were blackened, and if I were to change clothes with the chimney-sweeper, I’ll answer for it, would never know me.” “Oh, it’s an admirable invention! I give you infinite credit for it!” exclaimed Mrs. Theresa. “It shall, it must be done. I’ll ring, and have the fellow up this minute.”