Well, well, you are a nice little girl; you must have had a good mother, and a good bringing-up." "My mother died when I was three, and my father brought me up." "He did, hey?
Well, he made a fairly good job of it.

Now, I guess you can go; I'm about tired of talking to you." "Then I will go.

But, first, Miss Daggett, let me tell you that I met your nephew the other day." "Kenneth! For the land's sake! Well, well, sit down again.

I don't want you to go yet; tell me all about him.

Isn't he a nice boy?
Hasn't he fine eyes?
And gentlemanly manners?
And oh, the lovely ways with him!" "Yes, Miss Daggett, he is indeed a nice boy; my father and I both think so.