_Con_. No, I am not.

_Mat_. Why, miss, what's happened. He's never going to play _you_ false--is he?

_Con_. I don't mean ever to speak to him again?

_Mat_. What has he done to offend you, miss?

_Con_. Nothing. Only I know now I don't like him. To tell you the truth, Mattie, he's not a gentleman.

_Mat_. Not a gentleman, miss! How dare you say so?

_Con_. Do _you_ know anything about him? Did you ever see him?

_Mat_. Yes.

_Con_. Where?

_Mat_. Once at your house.

_Con_. Oh! I remember--that time! I begin to--It couldn't be at the sight of him you fainted, Mattie?--You knew him? Tell me! tell me!

Make me sure of it.

_Mat_. To give you your revenge! No. It's a mean spite to say he ain't a gentleman.

_Con_. Perhaps you and I have different ideas of what goes to make a gentleman.

_Mat_. Very likely.

_Con_. Oh! don't be vexed, Mattie. I didn't mean to hurt you.

_Mat_. Oh! I dare say!

_Con_. If you talk to me like that, I must go.

_Mat_. I never asked you to come.

_Con_. Well, I did want to be friendly with you. I wouldn't hurt you for the world.

_Mat_. (_bursting into tears_) I beg your pardon, miss. I'm behaving like a brute. But you must forgive me; my heart is breaking.

_Con_. Poor dear! (_kissing her_) So is mine almost. Let us be friends. Where's Susan gone?

_Mat_. To fetch me a cup of tea. She'll be back directly.

_Con_. Don't let her say bad words: I can't bear them. I think it's because I was so used to them once--in the streets, I mean--not at home--never at home.

_Mat_. She don't often, miss. She's a good-hearted creature. It's only when hunger makes her cross. She don't like to be hungry.

_Con_. I should think not, poor girl!

_Mat_. Don't mind what she says, please. If you say nothing, she'll come all right. When she's spoken her mind, she feels better. Here she comes!

_Re-enter_ SUSAN. _It begins to grow dark_.

_Sus_. Well, and who have we got here?

_Mat_. Miss Lacordere, Sukey.

_Sus_. There's no lack o' dare about _her_, to come here!

_Mat_. It's very kind of her to come, Susan.

_Sus_. I tell you what, miss: that parcel was stole. It _was_ stole, miss!--stole from me--an' that angel there a dyin' in the street!

_Con_. I'm quite sure of it, Susan. I never thought anything else.

_Sus_. Not but I allow it was a pity, miss!--I'm very sorry. But, bless you! (_lighting a candle_)--with all _your_ fine clothes--! My!

you look like a theayter-queen--you do, miss! If you was to send _them_ up the spout now!--My! what a lot they'd let you have on that silk!

_Con_. The shawl is worth a good deal, I believe. It's an Indian one--all needlework.

_Sus_. And the bee-utiful silk! Laws, miss! just shouldn't I like to wear a frock like that! I _should_ be hard up before I pledged _that_!

But the shawl! If I was you, miss, I would send 'most everything up before that!--things inside, you know, miss--where it don't matter so much.

_Con_. (_laughing_) The shawl would be the first thing I should part with. I would rather be nice inside than out.

_Sus_. Lawk, miss! I shouldn't wonder if that was one of the differs now! Well, I never! It ain't seen! It must be one o' the differs!

_Con_. What differs? I don't understand you.

_Sus_. The differs 'tween girls an' ladies--girls like me an' real ladies like you.

_Con_. Oh, I see! But how dark it has got! What can be keeping William? I must go at once, or what will my aunt say! Would you mind going with me a little bit, Susan?

_Sus_. I'll go with pleasure, miss.

_Con_. Just a little way, I mean, till we get to the wide streets. You couldn't lend me an old cloak, could you?

_Sus_. I 'ain't got one st.i.tch, miss, but what I stand up in--'cep' it be a hodd glove an' 'alf a pocket-'an'kercher. n.o.body 'ill know you.

_Con_. But I oughtn't to be out dressed like this.

_Sus_. You've only got to turn up your skirt over your head, miss.

_Con_. (_drawing up her skirt_) I never thought of that!

_Sus_. Well, I never!

_Con_. What's the matter?