"Ye mout hev left some o' that pretty talk for HIM to say," said Minty,
taking up her knife and fork with a slight shrug, "and you needn't call
me MISS Minty either, jest because there's kempeny present."

"I hope you won't look upon me as company, Minty, or I shall be obliged
to call you 'Miss' too," said Mainwaring, unexpectedly regaining his
usual frankness.

Bradley's face brightened; Miss Minty raised her black eyes from her
plate with still broader appreciation.

"There's nothin' mean about that," she said, showing her white teeth.
"Well, what's YOUR first name?"

"Not as pretty as yours, I'm afraid. It's Frank."

"No it ain't, it's Francis! You reckon to be Sir Francis some day," she
said gravely. "You can't play any Frank off on me. You wouldn't do it on
HER," she added, indicating Louise with her elbow.

A momentous silence followed. The particular form that Minty's vulgarity
had taken had not been anticipated by the two other women. They had,
not unreasonably, expected some original audacity or gaucherie from the
blacksmith's daughter, which might astonish yet amuse their guest, and
condone for the situation forced upon them. But they were not prepared
for a playfulness that involved themselves in a ridiculous indiscretion.
Mrs. Bradley's eyes sought her husband's meaningly; Louise's pretty
mouth hardened. Luckily the cheerful cause of it suddenly jumped up
from the table, and saying that the stranger was starving, insisted upon