“I will always take care of you,” replied Alizon, stooping, and kissing her.

“Do not promise more than you may be able to perform, Alizon,” observed Mistress Nutter, coldly, and regarding the little girl with a look of disgust; “an ill-favour’d little creature, with the Demdike eyes.”

“And as ill-tempered as she is ill-favoured,” rejoined Sampson Harrop; “and, though she cannot help being ugly, she might help being malicious.”

Jennet gave him a bitter look.

“You do her injustice, Master Harrop,” said Alizon.  “Poor little Jennet is quick-tempered, but not malevolent.”

“Ey con hate weel if ey conna love,” replied Jennet, “an con recollect injuries if ey forget kindnesses.—­Boh dunna trouble yourself about me, sister.  Ey dunna envy ye your luck.  Ey dunna want to be adopted by a grand-dame.  Ey’m content os ey am.  Boh are na ye gettin’ on rayther too fast, lass?  Mother’s consent has to be axed, ey suppose, efore ye leave her.”

“There is little fear of her refusal,” observed Mistress Nutter.

“Ey dunna knoa that,” rejoined Jennet.  “If she were to refuse, it wadna surprise me.”

“Nothing spiteful she could do would surprise me,” remarked Harrop.  “But how are you likely to know what your mother will think and do, you forward little hussy?”

“Ey judge fro circumstances,” replied the little girl.  “Mother has often said she conna weel spare Alizon.  An mayhap Mistress Nutter may knoa, that she con be very obstinate when she tays a whim into her head.”

“I do know it,” replied Mistress Nutter; “and, from my experience of her temper in former days, I should be loath to have you near me, who seem to inherit her obstinacy.”

“Wi’ sich misgivings ey wonder ye wish to tak Alizon, madam,” said Jennet; “fo she’s os much o’ her mother about her os me, onny she dunna choose to show it.”

“Peace, thou mischievous urchin,” cried Mistress Nutter, losing all patience.

“Shall I take her away?” said Harrop—­seizing her hand.

“Ay, do,” said Mistress Nutter.

“No, no, let her stay!” cried Alizon, quickly; “I shall be miserable if she goes.”

“Oh, ey’m quite ready to go,” said Jennet, “fo ey care little fo sich seets os this—­boh efore ey leave ey wad fain say a few words to Mester Potts, whom ey see yonder.”

“What can you want with him, Jennet,” cried Alizon, in surprise.

“Onny to tell him what brother Jem is gone to Pendle fo to-neet,” replied the little girl, with a significant and malicious look at Mistress Nutter.

“Ha!” muttered the lady.  “There is more malice in this little wasp than I thought.  But I must rob it of its sting.”

And while thus communing with herself, she fixed a searching look on Jennet, and then raising her hand quickly, waved it in her face.

“Oh!” cried the little girl, falling suddenly backwards.