'
Miss Miggs gave a great sniff to the same effect.
'Nay, Martha,' cried the locksmith, 'don't let us bear too hard upon
him. If the lad is dead indeed, we'll deal kindly by his memory.'
'A runaway and a vagabond!' said Mrs Varden.
Miss Miggs expressed her concurrence as before.
'A runaway, my dear, but not a vagabond,' returned the locksmith in
a gentle tone. 'He behaved himself well, did Joe--always--and was a
handsome, manly fellow. Don't call him a vagabond, Martha.'
Mrs Varden coughed--and so did Miggs.
'He tried hard to gain your good opinion, Martha, I can tell you,' said
the locksmith smiling, and stroking his chin. 'Ah! that he did. It seems
but yesterday that he followed me out to the Maypole door one night, and
begged me not to say how like a boy they used him--say here, at home, he
meant, though at the time, I recollect, I didn't understand. "And how's
Miss Dolly, sir?" says Joe,' pursued the locksmith, musing sorrowfully,
'Ah! Poor Joe!'
'Well, I declare,' cried Miggs. 'Oh! Goodness gracious me!'
'What's the matter now?' said Gabriel, turning sharply to her, 'Why, if
here an't Miss Dolly,' said the handmaid, stooping down to look into her
face, 'a-giving way to floods of tears.
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