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''Tis larceny that wicked ould laady manes, says t' Irishman, 'tis felony she is sejuicin' ye into, my frind Learoyd, but I'll purtect your innocince. I'll save ye from the wicked wiles av that wealthy ould woman, an' I'll go wid ye this evenin' and spake to her the wurrds av truth an' honesty.
"An' 'ow 'bout t' women, Jimmy? There'll bae a sight o' nacks fer yo' t' wring, I rackon. They'll 'ave soomat t' saay to 'er, yore laady." "T' women? T' women? Domned sight she'll keer for what they saay. There is n' woon o' they bitches as is fit t' kneel in t' mood to 'er t' tooch t' sawle of 'er boots." Blenkiron peered up at him from the crook of the mare's hind leg.
'Don't yo' believe him, mum, says I; 't' Colonel's Laady wouldn't tek five hundred for him. 'Who said she would? says Mulvaney; 'it's not buyin' him I mane, but for the sake o' this kind, good laady, I'll do what I never dreamt to do in my life. I'll stale him! 'Don't say steal, says Mrs. DeSussa; 'he shall have the happiest home.
An' we goes into t' drawn-room wheer her 'usband was a-settin'. They meks a gurt fuss ovver t' dog an' I has a bottle o' aale, an' he gave me a handful o' cigars. Soa I coomed away, but t' awd lass sings out "Oh, Mister Soldier, please coom again and bring that prettee dog." I didn't let on to t' Colonel's Laady about Mrs.
He found himself between two fat farmers, and this was the conversation broad Lincolnshire, of course: 'Did tha hear Lady Mildred Wharton say them things, Willum? 'Aye, a did. 'What did tha think, Willum? 'What did tha think, George? 'Wal, aa thowt Laady Mildred Wharton wor a graät fule, Willum, if tha asks me. 'I'll uphowd tha, George!
Orth'ris, as allus thinks he knaws more than other foaks, said she wasn't a real laady, but nobbut a Hewrasian. I don't gainsay as her culler was a bit doosky like. But she was a laady.
T' Colonel's Laady says: "Well, Learoyd, I doan't agree wi' you, but you're right in a way o' speeakin', an' I should like yo' to tek Rip out a-walkin' wi' you sometimes; but yo' maun't let him fight, nor chase cats, nor do nowt 'orrid;" an' them was her very wods.
Orth'ris, as allus thinks he knaws more than other foaks, said she wasn't a real laady, but nobbut a Hewrasian. I don't gainsay as her culler was a bit doosky like. But she was a laady.
'Well, mum, I says, 'I never thowt to coom down to dog-steealin', but if my comrade sees how it could be done to oblige a laady like yo'sen, I'm nut t' man to hod back, tho' it's a bad business I'm thinkin', an' three hundred rupees is a poor set-off again t' chance of them Damning Islands as Mulvaney talks on. 'I'll mek it three fifty, says Mrs. DeSussa; 'only let me hev t'dog!
It was the mournful and musical voice that she had heard sometimes last summer on the road outside the back door of the Vicarage. She came in, pausing on the threshold and looking about her, as if she stood poised on the edge of an adventure. Her smallness, and the delicious, exploring air of her melted Jim's heart and made him smile at her. "It's a roough plaace fer a laady," he said.
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