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Where is Sir Pitt Crawley? said Miss Sharp majestically. He, he! Im Sir Pitt Crawley. Reklect you owe me a pint for bringing down your luggage. He, he! Ask Tinker if I aynt. Mrs. Tinker, Miss Sharp; Miss Governess, Mrs. Charwoman. Ho, ho! The lady addressed as Mrs. Tinker at this moment made her appearance with a pipe and a paper of tobacco, for which she had been despatched a minute before Miss Sharps arrival; and she handed the articles over to Sir Pitt, who had taken his seat by the fire. Wheres the farden? said he. I gave you three halfpence. Wheres the change, old Tinker? There! replied Mrs. Tinker, flinging down the coin; its only baronets as cares about farthings. A farthing a day is seven shillings a year, answered the M.P.; seven shillings a year is the interest of seven guineas. Take care of your farthings, old Tinker, and your guineas will come quite natral. You may be sure its Sir Pitt Crawley, young woman, said Mrs. Tinker, surlily; because he looks to his farthings. Youll know him better afore long. And like me none the worse, Miss Sharp, said the old gentleman, with an air almost of politeness. I must be just before Im generous. He never gave away a farthing in his life, growled Tinker. Never, and never will: its against my principle. Go and get another chair from the kitchen, Tinker, if you want to sit down; and then well have a bit of supper. Presently the baronet plunged a fork into the saucepan on the fire, and withdrew from the pot a piece of tripe and an onion, which he divided into pretty equal portions, and of which he partook with Mrs. Tinker. You see, Miss Sharp, when Im not here Tinkers on board wages: when Im in town she dines with the family. Haw! haw! Im glad Miss Sharps not hungry, aint you, Tink? And they fell to upon their frugal supper. After supper Sir Pitt Crawley began to smoke his pipe; and when it became quite dark, he lighted the rushlight in the tin candlestick, and producing from an interminable pocket a huge mass of papers, began reading them, and putting them in order. Im here on law business, my dear, and thats how it happens that I shall have the pleasure of such a pretty travelling companion to-morrow. Hes always at law business, said Mrs. Tinker, taking up the pot of porter. Drink and drink about, said the Baronet. Yes; my dear, Tinker is quite right: Ive lost and won more lawsuits than any man in England. Look here at Crawley, Bart. v. Snaffle. Ill throw him over, or my names not Pitt Crawley. Podder and another versus Crawley, Bart. Overseers of Snaily parish against Crawley, Bart. They cant prove its common: Ill defy em; the lands mine. It no more belongs to the parish than it does to you or Tinker here. Ill beat em, if it cost me a thousand guineas. Look over the papers; you may if you like, my dear. Do you write a good hand? Ill make you useful when were at Queens Crawley, depend on it, Miss Sharp. Now the dowagers dead I want some one. She was as bad as he, said Tinker. She took the law of every one of her tradesmen; and turned away forty-eight footmen in four year. She was closevery close, said the Baronet, simply; but she was a valyble woman to me, and saved me a steward.And in this confidential strain, and much to the amusement of the new-comer, the conversation continued for a considerable time. Whatever Sir Pitt Crawleys qualities might be, good or bad, he did not make the least disguise of them. He talked of himself incessantly, sometimes in the coarsest and |
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