'
'Have I not patronised you, ma'am?' demanded Miss Squeers.
'No,' returned Mrs Browdie.
'I will not look for blushes in such a quarter,' said Miss Squeers,
haughtily, 'for that countenance is a stranger to everything but
hignominiousness and red-faced boldness.'
'I say,' interposed John Browdie, nettled by these accumulated attacks
on his wife, 'dra' it mild, dra' it mild.'
'You, Mr Browdie,' said Miss Squeers, taking him up very quickly, 'I
pity. I have no feeling for you, sir, but one of unliquidated pity.'
'Oh!' said John.
'No,' said Miss Squeers, looking sideways at her parent, 'although I AM
a queer bridesmaid, and SHAN'T be a bride in a hurry, and although my
husband WILL be in luck, I entertain no sentiments towards you, sir, but
sentiments of pity.'
Here Miss Squeers looked sideways at her father again, who looked
sideways at her, as much as to say, 'There you had him.'
'I know what you've got to go through,' said Miss Squeers, shaking her
curls violently. 'I know what life is before you, and if you was my
bitterest and deadliest enemy, I could wish you nothing worse.'
'Couldn't you wish to be married to him yourself, if that was the case?'
inquired Mrs Browdie, with great suavity of manner.
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