She actually said “mate” for “meat,” “’appen” for “perhaps,” and “oss” for “horse,” which, to young ladies living in good Lytherly society, who habitually said ’orse, even in domestic privacy, and only said ’appen on the right occasions, was necessarily shocking. Miss Nancy, indeed, had never been to any other school higher than Dame Tedman’s; her acquaintance with profane literature hardly went beyond the rhymes she had worked in her large sampler under the lamb and the shepherdess; and in order to balance an account she was obliged to effect her subtraction by removing visible metallic shillings and sixpences from a visible metallic total. There is hardly a servant-maid in these days who is not better informed than Miss Nancy; yet she had the essential attributes of a lady—high veracity, delicate honour in her dealings, deference to others, and refined personal habits; and lest these should not suffice to convince grammatical fair ones that her feelings can at all resemble theirs, I will add that she was slightly proud and exacting, and as constant in her affection towards a baseless opinion as towards an erring lover.

The anxiety about Sister Priscilla, which had grown rather active by the time the coral necklace was clasped, was happily ended by the entrance of that cheerful-looking lady herself, with a face made blowsy by cold and damp. After the first questions and greetings, she turned to Nancy and surveyed her from head to foot; then wheeled her round, to ascertain that the back view was equally faultless.

“What do you think o’ these gowns, Aunt Osgood?” said Priscilla, while Nancy helped her to unrobe.

“Very handsome indeed, niece,” said Mrs. Osgood with a slight increase of formality. She always thought Niece Priscilla too rough.

“I’m obliged to have the same as Nancy, you know, for all I’m five years older, and it makes me look yallow; for she never will have anything without I have mine just like it, because she wants us to look like sisters. And I tell her folks ’ull think it’s my weakness makes me fancy as I shall look pretty in what she looks pretty in. For I am ugly—there’s no denying that; I feature my father’s family. But, law! I don’t mind, do you?” Priscilla here turned to the Miss Gunns, rattling on in too much preoccupation with the delight of talking to notice that her candour was not appreciated. “The pretty uns do for fly-catchers—they keep the men off us. I’ve no opinion o’ the men, Miss Gunn; I don’t know what you have. And as for fretting and stewing about what they’ll think of you from morning till night, and making your life uneasy about what they’re doing when they’re out o’ your sight—as I tell Nancy, it’s a folly no woman need be guilty of, if she’s got a good father and a good home; let her leave it to them as have got no fortin, and can’t help themselves. As I say, Mr. Have-your-own-way is the best husband, and the only one I’d ever promise to obey. I know it isn’t pleasant, when you’ve been used to living in a big way, and managing hogsheads and all that, to go and put your nose in by somebody else’s fireside, or to sit down by yourself to a scrag or a knuckle. But, thank God! my father’s a sober man and likely to live; and if you’ve got a man by the chimney-corner, it doesn’t matter if he’s childish—the business needn’t be broke up.”

The delicate process of getting her narrow gown over her head without injury to her smooth curls obliged Miss Priscilla to pause in this rapid survey of life, and Mrs. Osgood seized the opportunity of rising and saying,—

“Well, niece, you’ll follow us. The Miss Gunns will like to go down.”

“Sister,” said Nancy when they were alone, “you’ve offended the Miss Gunns, I’m sure.”

“What have I done, child?” said Priscilla in some alarm.

“Why, you asked them if they minded about being ugly—you’re so very blunt.”

“Law, did I? Well, it popped out; it’s a mercy I said no more, for I’m a bad un to live with folks when they don’t like the truth. But as for being ugly, look at me, child, in this silver-coloured silk—I told you how it ’ud be—I look as yallow as a daffadil. Anybody ’ud say you wanted to make a mawkin of me.”