“Oh, no; do not ring,” said Frederick, stopping her hand, “I don’t mean to do it. You know you promised that I should do as I pleased. I only told you my invention.” “Well, well; but only let me ring, and ask whether the chimney-sweepers are below. You shall do as you please afterwards.” “Christopher, shut the door. Christopher,” said she to the servant who came up when she rang, “pray are the sweeps gone yet?” “No, ma’am.” “But have they been up to old Eden yet?” “Oh, no, ma’am; nor be not to go till the bell rings; for Miss Bertha, ma’am, was asleep a-lying down, and her brother wouldn’t have her wakened on no account whatsomever. He came down hisself to the kitchen to the sweeps, though; but wouldn’t have, as I heard him say, his sister waked for no account. But Miss Bertha’s bell will ring when she wakens for the sweeps, ma’am. ’Twas she wanted to see the boy as her brother saved, and I suppose sent for him to give him something charitable, ma’am.” “Well, never mind your suppositions,” said Mrs. Theresa; “run down this very minute to the little squeaking chimney-sweep, and send him up to me. Quick, but don’t let the other bear come up with him.” Christopher, who had curiosity, as well as his mistress, when he returned with the chimney-sweeper, prolonged his own stay in the room by sweeping the hearth, throwing down the tongs and shovel, and picking them up again. “That will do, Christopher! Christopher, that will do, I say,” Mrs. Theresa repeated in vain. She was obliged to say, “Christopher, you may go,” before he would depart. “Now,” said she to Frederick, “step in here to the next room with this candle, and you’ll be equipped in an instant. Only just change clothes with the boy; only just let me see what a charming chimney-sweeper you’d make. You shall do as you please afterwards.” “Well, I’ll only change clothes with him, just to show you for one minute.” “But,” said Marianne to Mrs. Theresa whilst Frederick was changing his clothes, “I think Frederick is right about—” “About what, love?” “I think he is in the right not to go up, though he can do it so easily, to see that gentleman; I mean on purpose to mimic and laugh at him afterwards. I don’t think that would be quite right.” “Why, pray, Miss Marianne?” “Why, because he is so good-natured to his sister. He would not let her be wakened.” “Dear, it’s easy to be good in such little things; and he won’t have long to be good to her neither; for I don’t think she will trouble him long in this world, anyhow.” “What do you mean?” said Marianne. “That she’ll die, child.” “Die! die with that beautiful colour in her cheeks! How sorry her poor, poor brother will be! But she will not die, I’m sure, for she walks about and runs upstairs so lightly! Oh, you must be quite mistaken, I hope.”