pulling his hair with both hands in the exasperation of his feelings, "if she an’t enough to make a cove run wild!"
"What! Do you snub me, thankless boy!" cried the old woman, with ready vehemence.
"Good gracious, Misses Brown, no!" returned the Grinder, with tears in his eyes. "Was there ever such a! Don’t I dote upon you, Misses Brown?"
"Do you, sweet Rob? Do you truly, chickabiddy?" With that, Mrs. Brown held him in her fond embrace once more; and did not release him until he had made several violent and ineffectual struggles with his legs, and his hair was standing on end all over his head.
"Oh!" returned the Grinder, "what a thing it is to be perfectly pitched into with affection like this here. I wish she was How have you been, Misses Brown?"
"Ah! Not here since this night week!" said the old woman, contemplating him with a look of reproach.
"Good gracious, Misses Brown," returned the Grinder, "I said to-night’s a week, that I’d come to-night, didn’t I? And here I am. How you do go on! I wish you’d be a little rational, Misses Brown. I’m hoarse with saying things in my defence, and my very face is shiny with being hugged!" He rubbed it hard with his sleeve, as if to remove the tender polish in question.
"Drink a little drop to comfort you, my Robin," said the old woman, filling the glass from the bottle and giving it to him.
"Thank’ee, Misses Brown,’ returned the Grinder. "Here’s your health. And long may you—et ceterer." Which, to judge from the expression of his face, did not include any very choice blessings. "And here’s her health," said the Grinder, glancing at Alice, who sat with her eyes fixed, as it seemed to him, on the wall behind him, but in reality on Mr. Dombey’s face at the door, "and wishing her the same and many of 'em!"
He drained the glass to these two sentiments, and set it down.
"Well, I say, Misses Brown!" he proceeded. "To go on a little rational now. You ’re a judge of birds, and up to their ways, as I know to my cost."
"Cost!" repeated Mrs. Brown.
"Satisfaction, I mean," returned the Grinder. "How you do take up a cove, Misses Brown! You ’ve put it all out of my head again."
"Judge of birds, Robby," suggested the old woman.
"Ah!" said the Grinder. "Well, I ’ve got to take care of this parrot—certain things being sold, and a certain establishment broke up—and as I don’t want no notice took at present, I wish you’d attend to her for a week or so, and give her board and lodging, will you? If I must come backwards and forwards," mused the Grinder with a dejected face, "I may as well have something to come for."
"Something to come for?" screamed the old woman.
"Besides you, I mean, Misses Brown," returned the craven Rob. "Not that I want any inducement but yourself, Misses Brown, I’m sure. Don’t begin again, for goodness’ sake."
