.
I am not at all business-like.«
    »Yet you have a large establishment, too, I am told?« said Mr. Jarndyce.
    »Not much of a one, sir. I keep a shooting gallery, but not much of a one.«
    »And what kind of a shot, and what kind of a swordsman, do you make of Mr.
Carstone?« said my guardian.
    »Pretty good, sir,« he replied, folding his arms upon his broad chest, and
looking very large. »If Mr. Carstone was to give his full mind to it, he would
come out very good.«
    »But he don't, I suppose?« said my guardian.
    »He did at first, sir, but not afterwards. Not his full mind. Perhaps he has
something else upon it - some young lady, perhaps.« His bright dark eyes glanced
at me for the first time.
    »He has not me upon his mind, I assure you, Mr. George,« said I, laughing,
»though you seem to suspect me.«
    He reddened a little through his brown, and made me a trooper's bow. »No
offence, I hope, miss. I am one of the Roughs.«
    »Not at all,« said I. »I take it as a compliment.«
    If he had not looked at me before, he looked at me now, in three or four
quick successive glances. »I beg your pardon, sir,« he said to my guardian, with
a manly kind of diffidence, »but you did me the honour to mention the young
lady's name -«
    »Miss Summerson.«
    »Miss Summerson,« he repeated, and looked at me again.
    »Do you know the name?« I asked.
    »No, miss. To my knowledge, I never heard it. I thought I had seen you
somewhere.«
    »I think not,« I returned, raising my head from my work to look at him; and
there was something so genuine in his speech and manner that I was glad of the
opportunity. »I remember faces very well.«
    »So do I, miss!« he returned, meeting my look with the fulness of his dark
and broad forehead. »Humph! What set me off, now, upon that!«
    His once more reddening through his brown, and being disconcerted by his
efforts to remember the association, brought my guardian to his relief.
    »Have you many
