"It matters not to me whether she is in the town, or sitting waiting for her finery on the bridge.

If she didn't go with her father (cowardly sneak that he is), that gives her less reason to stay away all night from her home, and send her orders to me in the morning.

No, I will have none of that! If my husband's daughter wants anything of me, let her come here and ask for it, first giving me the reason of her shameful conduct." "Madam!" cried Newcombe, "I cannot listen to such speech, such--" "Then stop your ears with your thumbs," she exclaimed, "and you will not hear it." Then turning to Dickory: "Now, go you, and tell the young woman who sent you here she must come in sackcloth and ashes, if she can get them, and she must tell me her tale and her father's tale, without a lie mixed up in them; and when she has done this, and has humbly asked my pardon for the foul affront she has put upon me, then it will be time enough to talk of fine clothes and fripperies." Newcombe now expostulated with much temper, but Dickory gave him little chance to speak.
"I carry no such message as that," he said.

"Do you truly mean that you deny the young lady the apparel she needs, and that I am to tell her that ?" "Get away from here!" cried Madam Bonnet, with her face in a blaze.

"I send her no message at all; and if she comes here on her knees, I shall spurn her, if it suit me." If Dickory had waited a little he might have heard more, but he did not wait; he quickly turned, and away he went in his boat.