"Without you, Grandy! I'd rather die first."

"You hear her; all is settled between us. You have had our services up
to last night; you have paid us up to last night; and so good morning to
you, Mr. Rugge."

"My dear child," said the manager, softening his voice as much as he
could, "do consider. You shall be so made of without that stupid old
man. You think me cross, but 't is he who irritates and puts me out of
temper. I 'm uncommon fond of children. I had a babe of my own once,--
upon my honour, I had,--and if it had not been for convulsions, caused by
teething, I should be a father still. Supply to me the place of that
beloved babe. You shall have such fine dresses; all new,--choose 'em
yourself,--minced veal and raspberry tarts for dinner every Sunday. In
three years, under my care, you will become a great actress, and make
your fortune, and marry a lord,--lords go out of their wits for great
actresses,--whereas, with him, what will you do? drudge and rot and
starve; and he can't live long, and then where will you be? 'T is a
shame to hold her so, you idle old vagabond."

"I don't hold her," said Waife, trying to push her away. "There's
something in what the man says. Choose for yourself, Sophy."

SOPHY (suppressing a sob).--"How can you have the heart to talk so,
Grandy? I tell you, Mr. Rugge, you are a bad man, and I hate you, and
all about you; and I'll stay with Grandfather; and I don't care if I do
starve: he sha'n't!"

MR. RUGGE (clapping both hands on the crown of his hat, and striding to