“It’s very kind of you to say so, Sir; and thank you.  But cap and ribbons are the last things I can buy while I’m in this place.  Master’s master and missus too, here; and drives us half wild with the fuss he makes about our caps and ribbons.  He’s such an austerious man, that he will have our caps as he likes ’em.  It’s bad enough when a missus meddles with a poor servant’s ribbons; but to have master come down into the kitchen, and—­ Well, it’s no use telling you of it, Sir—­and—­and thank you, Sir, for what you’ve given me, all the same!”

“I hope this is not the last time I shall make you a present.  And now I must come to the favour I want to ask of you:  can you keep a secret?”

“That I can, Sir!  I’ve kep’ a many secrets since I’ve been out at service.”

“Well:  I want you to find me an opportunity of speaking to your young lady—­”

“To Miss Margaret, Sir?”

“Yes.  I want an opportunity of seeing Miss Margaret, and speaking to her in private—­and not a word must be said to her about it, beforehand.”

“Oh Lord, Sir!  I couldn’t dare to do it!”

“Come! come!  Can’t you guess why I want to see your young lady, and what I want to say to her?”

The girl smiled, and shook her head archly.  “Perhaps you’re in love with Miss Margaret, Sir!—­But I couldn’t do it!  I couldn’t dare to do it!”

“Very well; but you can tell me at least, whether Miss Margaret ever goes out to take a walk?”

“Oh, yes, Sir; mostly every day.”

“Do you ever go out with her?—­just to take care of her when no one else can be spared?”

“Don’t ask me—­please, Sir, don’t!” She crumpled her apron between her fingers, with a very piteous and perplexed air.  “I don’t know you; and Miss Margaret don’t know you, I’m sure—­I couldn’t, Sir, I really couldn’t!”

“Take a good look at me!  Do you think I am likely to do you or your young lady any harm?  Am I too dangerous a man to be trusted?  Would you believe me on my promise?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m sure I would!—­being so kind and so civil to me, too!” (a fresh arrangement of the cap followed this speech.)

“Then suppose I promised, in the first place, not to tell Miss Margaret that I had spoken to you about her at all.  And suppose I promised, in the second place, that, if you told me when you and Miss Margaret go out together, I would only speak to her while she was in your sight, and would leave her the moment you wished me to go away.  Don’t you think you could venture to help me, if I promised all that?”

“Well, Sir, that would make a difference, to be sure.  But then, it’s master I’m so afraid of—­couldn’t you speak to master first, Sir?”

“Suppose you were in Miss Margaret’s place, would you like to be made love to, by your father’s authority, without your own wishes being consulted first? would you like an offer of marriage, delivered like a message, by means of your father?  Come, tell me honestly, would you?”