'You must remember I am a perfect stranger in your city,' said I.
'If I have done wrong, it was in mere ignorance, my dear lady; and
this afternoon, if you will be so good as to take me, I shall
accompany YOU.'
But she was not to be pacified at the moment, and departed to her
own quarters murmuring.
'Well, Rowley,' said I; 'and have you been to church?'
'If you please, sir,' he said.
'Well, you have not been any less unlucky than I have,' I returned.
'And how did you get on with the Scottish form?'
'Well, sir, it was pretty 'ard, the form was, and reether narrow,'
he replied. 'I don't know w'y it is, but it seems to me like as if
things were a good bit changed since William Wallace! That was a
main queer church she took me to, Mr. Anne! I don't know as I
could have sat it out, if she 'adn't 'a' give me peppermints. She
ain't a bad one at bottom, the old girl; she do pounce a bit, and
she do worry, but, law bless you, Mr. Anne, it ain't nothink
really--she don't MEAN it. W'y, she was down on me like a
'undredweight of bricks this morning. You see, last night she 'ad
me in to supper, and, I beg your pardon, sir, but I took the
freedom of playing her a chune or two. She didn't mind a bit; so
this morning I began to play to myself, and she flounced in, and
flew up, and carried on no end about Sunday!'
'You see, Rowley,' said I, 'they're all mad up here, and you have
to humour them.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362