become a most respectable lawyer."

"Oh! 'twill kill me!" she moans. "Of all the dreadful news I ever
heard! And wi' Lawyer Vetch, too; the man as devours widows' houses
and makes away with good men's wills! I wish I were in my grave, I
do!"

"Wouldn't you rather be with me, Becky?" I said, smiling at her.

"'Tis cruel to talk so," she cried, sobbing. "How can I be with
'ee? What you get from Lawyer Vetch won't keep two--if you get
anything at all. They say his nephew has ruined him--the wretch!
Indeed, if you ask me, I say you'll get more from Mr. Huggins than
from the lawyer. You'll have enough to do to keep yourself, without
being saddled with a poor, forlorn old widow woman."

"But won't you come? I am going to live with Mr. Vetch."

"Live with the devil!" she screamed, lifting her hands with a
gesture of utter despair. "It is downright wicked of you,
Humphrey--and your poor father not a week in the grave. Sure the
end of the world be coming, when the leopard and the kid shall lie
down together, and the lion shall eat straw like the ox."

"And donkeys won't bray, I suppose," says I. "There, I don't mean
you, Becky, though you are an old goose. Mr. Vetch wants a
housekeeper, and you are to come with me and mother us both, he
says, and he'll give you twenty pounds a year."

The good creature's look sent me into a fit of laughter. She stared