"
"'Stewed damsons,' indeed!--Stewed stalks and stewed leaves and stewed
creaturs! Didn't you have faculty of yourself enough to know that they'd
got to be picked over before they went into the pot? There, there,
child! don't you go to cryin', whatever you do."
I knocked louder.
"There's somebody to the door; mebbe it's the Doctor. You go and see
what's wanted, an' don't take no more concern about these. I'll see to
'em."
After a little delay, occasioned perhaps by the need of rubbing the
eyelids, which were red, a little pallid lass, apparently about sixteen
years old, shyly opened the door, and looked relieved, I thought, to
find only me at it. She had a small and pretty nose and mouth, large,
heavy blue eyes, flaxen hair drawn neatly, but unbecomingly, away from
her face, looked modest and refined, but sadly moped, and was dressed in
dark green, which set her off much as spinach does a _dropped_ egg.
"Miss Nelly?" said I.
"Yes, Miss Morne," said she.
I had never seen her before; but it afterwards came out that she had
peeped at me through the blinds of her chamber.
"I have brought you a little treat from Dr. Physick."
"O," said she, looking rather pleased; "then isn't he coming to-day?"
"No; he sent me instead.
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