Again his aunt spoke-- 'I used to think as she and yo' might fancy one another, but thou'rt too old-fashioned like for her; ye would na' suit; and it's as well, for now I can say to thee, that I would take it very kindly if thou would'st look after her a bit.' Philip's countenance fell into gloom.

He had to gulp down certain feelings before he could make answer with discretion.
'How can I look after her, and me tied to the shop more and more every day ?' 'I could send her on a bit of an errand to Foster's, and then, for sure, yo' might keep an eye upon her when she's in th' town; and just walk a bit way with her when she's in th' street, and keep t' other fellows off her--Ned Simpson, t' butcher, in 'special, for folks do say he means no good by any girl he goes wi'-- and I'll ask father to leave her a bit more wi' me.

They're coming down th' brow, and Ned Simpson wi' them.

Now, Philip, I look to thee to do a brother's part by my wench, and warn off all as isn't fit.' The door opened, and the coarse strong voice of Simpson made itself heard.

He was a stout man, comely enough as to form and feature, but with a depth of colour in his face that betokened the coming on of the habits of the sot.