 had what is popularly called a spirit of her own, and being now fairly
at bay, made the best of it.
    »Yes, sir,« she rejoined, trembling and frightened as she was. »Yes, sir, I
have. You may kill me if you please, sir, but I won't give it up. I'm very
sorry, - but I won't. There, sir.«
    »I commend your firmness and your plain-speaking,« said Mr. Haredale. »Rest
assured that I have as little desire to take your letter as your life. You are a
very discreet messenger and a good girl.«
    Not feeling quite certain, as she afterwards said, whether he might not be
coming over her with these compliments, Dolly kept as far from him as she could,
cried again, and resolved to defend her pocket (for the letter was there) to the
last extremity.
    »I have some design,« said Mr. Haredale after a short silence, during which
a smile, as he regarded her, had struggled through the gloom and melancholy that
was natural to his face, »of providing a companion for my niece; for her life is
a very lonely one. Would you like the office? You are the oldest friend she has,
and the best entitled to it.«
    »I don't know, sir,« answered Dolly, not sure but he was bantering her; »I
can't say. I don't know what they might wish at home. I couldn't give an
opinion, sir.«
    »If your friends had no objection, would you have any?« said Mr. Haredale.
»Come. There's a plain question; and easy to answer.«
    »None at all that I know of, sir,« replied Dolly. »I should be very glad to
be near Miss Emma of course, and always am.«
    »That's well,« said Mr. Haredale. »That is all I had to say. You are anxious
to go. Don't let me detain you.«
    Dolly didn't let him, nor did she wait for him to try, for the words had no
sooner passed his lips than she was out of the room, out of the house, and in
the fields again.
    The first thing to be done, of course, when she came to herself, and
considered what a flurry she had been in, was to cry afresh; and the next thing,
