Jenny was much
prettier than her name, and the ground she trod on was worshipped by
many, even when her shoes were down at heel. Especially in this track
remained the finer part of Charley Bowles's heart (while the coarser
was up against the Frenchmen), as well as a good deal of Mr. Prater's
nephew's, and of several other sole-fishers. This enabled Jenny to enter
kindly into tender questions. And she fetched her Sunday bonnet down the
trap-ladder where she kept it--because the other maids were so nasty--as
soon as her letter was delivered.
"Your place, Jenny, is to go behind," Miss Dolly said, with no small
dignity, as this zealous attendant kept step for step with her, and
swung her red arm against the lady's fair one. "I am come upon important
business, Jenny, such as you cannot understand, but may stay at a proper
distance."
"Lor, miss, I am sure I begs your pardon. I thought it was a kind of
coorting-match, and you might be glad of my experience."
"Such things I never do, and have no idea what you mean. I shall be much
obliged to you, Jenny, if you will hold your tongue."
"Oh yes, miss; no fear of my telling anybody. Wild horses would never
pull a syllable out of me. The young men is so aggravating that I keep
my proper distance from them. But the mind must be made up, at one time
or other."
Dolly looked down at her with vast contempt, which she would not lower
herself by expressing, even with favour of time and place.
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