“I take up with your pal, as you call him; you had better mind what you say,” said Isopel Berners; “I take up with nobody.”

“I merely mean taking up your quarters with him,” said Mr. Petulengro; “and I was only about to say a better fellow-lodger you cannot have, or a more instructive, especially if you have a desire to be inoculated with tongues, as he calls them.  I wonder whether you and he have had any tongue-work already.”

“Have you and your wife anything particular to say?  If you have nothing but this kind of conversation I must leave you, as I am going to make a journey this afternoon, and should be getting ready.”

“You must excuse my husband, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “he is not overburdened with understanding, and has said but one word of sense since he has been here, which was that we came to pay our respects to you.  We have dressed ourselves in our best Roman way, in order to do honour to you; perhaps you do not like it; if so, I am sorry.  I have no French clothes, madam; if I had any, madam, I would have come in them in order to do you more honour.”

“I like to see you much better as you are,” said Belle; “people should keep to their own fashions, and yours is very pretty.”

“I am glad you are pleased to think it so, madam; it has been admired in the great city, it created what they call a sensation, and some of the great ladies, the court ladies, imitated it, else I should not appear in it so often as I am accustomed; for I am not very fond of what is Roman, having an imagination that what is Roman is ungenteel; in fact, I once heard the wife of a rich citizen say that gypsies were vulgar creatures.  I should have taken her saying very much to heart, but for her improper pronunciation; she could not pronounce her words, madam, which we gypsies, as they call us, usually can, so I thought she was no very high purchase.  You are very beautiful, madam, though you are not dressed as I could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, madam; I will dress it for you in our fashion; I would fain see how your hair would look in our poor gypsy fashion; pray allow me, madam?” and she took Belle by the hand.

“I really can do no such thing,” said Belle, withdrawing her hand; “I thank you for coming to see me, but . . .”

“Do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “I should esteem your allowing me a great mark of condescension.  You are very beautiful, madam, and I think you doubly so, because you are so fair; I have a great esteem for persons with fair complexions and hair; I have a less regard for people with dark hair and complexions, madam.”

“Then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with me?” said Mr. Petulengro; “that same lord was fair enough all about him.”

“People do when they are young and silly what they sometimes repent of when they are of riper years and understandings.  I sometimes think that had I not been something of a simpleton, I might at this time be a great court lady.  Now, madam,” said she, again taking Belle by the hand, “do oblige me by allowing me to plait your hair a little?”