"No, ma'am; I know my mind. I want one hour with your husband."

Taffy heard the door shut, and went back to his window-seat.

The little girl had climbed the cannon opposite, and sat there
dangling her feet and eyeing the house.

"Boy," said she, "what a funny window-seat you've got! I can see
your legs under it."

"That's because the window reaches down to the floor, and the bench
is fixed across by the transom here."

"What's your name?"

"Theophilus; but they call me Taffy."

"Why?"

"Father says it's an imperfect example of Grimm's Law."

"Oh! Then, I suppose you're quite the gentleman? My name's
Honoria."

"Is that your father downstairs?"

"Bless the boy! What age do you take me for? He's my grandfather.
He's asking your father about his soul. He wants to be saved, and
says if he's not saved before next Lady-day, he'll know the reason
why. What are you doing up there?"