ing
back to the Feathers." And old Stapleton walked down stairs, and went
back to the inn, saying, as he went out, that he should be back to his
dinner.

Mary continued her employment of wiping the furniture of the room with a
duster for some minutes, during which I did not speak, but watched the
floating ice on the river. "Well," said Mary, "do you always talk as
you do now? if so, you'll be a very nice companion. Mr Turnbull who
came to my father, told me that you was a sharp fellow, could read,
write, and do everything, and that I should like you very much; but if
you mean to keep it all to yourself, you might as well not have had it."

"I am ready to talk when I have anything to talk about," replied I.

"That's not enough. I'm ready to talk about nothing, and you must do
the same."

"Very well," replied I. "How old are you?"

"How old am I! O, then you consider me nothing. I'll try hard but you
shall alter your opinion, my fine fellow. However, to answer your
question, I believe I'm about fifteen."

"Not more? well, there's an old proverb, which I will not repeat."

"I know it, so you may save yourself the trouble, you saucy boy; but
now, for your age?"

"Mine! let me see; well, I believe that I am nearly seventeen."

"Are you really so old? well, now, I should have thought you no more
than fourteen."

This answer at first surprised me, as I was very stout and tall for my
age; but a moment's reflection told me that it was given to annoy me. A
lad is as much vexed at being supposed younger than he really is as a
man of a certain age is annoyed at being taken for so much older.
"Pooh!" replied I; "that shows how little you know about men."

"I wasn't talking about men, that I know of; but still, I do know
something about them. I've had two sweethearts already."

"Indeed! and what have you done with them?"

"Done with them! I jilted the first for the second, because the second
was better looking; and when Mr Turnbull told me so much about you, I
jilted the second to make room for you: but now I mean to try if I can't
get him back again."

"With all my heart," replied I laughing. "I shall prove but a sorry
sweetheart, for I have never made love in my life."

"Have you ever had anybody to make love to?"

"No."

"That's the reason, Mr Jacob, depend upon it. All you have to do is to
swear that I'm the prettiest girl in the world, that you like me better
than anybody else in the world; do