"Not what enough?" said Peg.
"Becoming."
"Becoming what?" said Peg sharply. "Not becoming too old to wear?"
Arthur Gride muttered an imprecation upon his housekeeper's deafness, as he roared in her ear:—
"Not smart enough: I want to look as well as I can."
"Look?" cried Peg. "If she's as handsome as you say she is, she won't look much at you, master, take your oath of that; and as to how you look yourself—pepper-and-salt, bottle-green, sky-blue, or tartan-plaid, will make no difference in you."
With which consolatory assurance, Peg Sliderskew gathered up the chosen suit, and folding her skinny arms upon the bundle, stood mouthing, and grinning, and blinking her watery eyes like an uncouth figure in some monstrous piece of carving.
"You're in a funny humour, an't you, Peg," said Arthur, with not the best possible grace.
"Why, isn't it enough to make me?" rejoined the old woman. "I shall soon enough be put out, though, if anybody tries to domineer it over me, and so I give you notice, master. Nobody shall be put over Peg Sliderskew's head after so many years; you know that, and so I needn't tell you. That won't do for me—no, no, nor for you. Try that once and come to ruin—ruin—ruin."
"Oh dear, dear, I shall never try it," said Arthur Gride, appalled by the mention of the word, "not for the world. It would be very easy to ruin me; we must be very careful; more saving than ever with another mouth to feed. Only we—we mustn't let her lose her good looks. Peg, because I like to see 'em."
"Take care you don't find good looks come expensive," returned Peg, shaking her fore-finger.
"But she can earn money herself. Peg," said Arthur Gride, eagerly watching what effect his communication produced upon the old woman's countenance: "She can draw, paint, work all manner of pretty things for ornamenting stools and chairs: slippers, Peg, watch-guards, hair-chains, and a thousand little dainty trifles that I couldn't give you half the names of. Then she can play the piano, (and, what's more, she's got one,) and sing like a little bird. She'll be very cheap to dress and keep, Peg; don't you think she will?"
"If you don't let her make a fool of you, she may," returned Peg.
"A fool of me!" exclaimed Arthur. "Trust your old master not to be fooled by pretty faces, Peg; no, no, no—nor by ugly ones neither, Mrs. Sliderskew," he softly added by way of soliloquy.
"You're a saying something you don't want me to hear," said Peg; "I know you are."
"Oh dear! the devil's in this woman," muttered Arthur; adding with an ugly leer, "I said I trusted everything to you, Peg, that was all."
"You do that, master, and all your cares are over," said Peg approvingly.
