I don't know how you fare to think of such things, that I don't.' [Illustration: 'Lor', ain't it pretty!' said the parlour-maid.] Praise is sweet.

He slipped his hand into that of the parlour-maid as they went down the wide stairs to the hall, where tea awaited him--a very little tray on a very big, dark table.
'He's not half a bad child,' said Susan at her tea in the servants' quarters.

'That nurse frightened him out of his little wits with her prim ways, you may depend.

He's civil enough if you speak him civil.' 'But Miss Lucy didn't frighten him, I suppose,' said the cook; 'and look how he behaved to her.' 'Well, he's quiet enough, anyhow.

You don't hear a breath of him from morning till night,' said the upper housemaid; 'seems silly-like to me.' 'You slip in and look what he's been building, that's all,' Susan told them.