'Is this
the proper compliment?'
'I hope so, sir; your honour knows best.'
'Very well,' slipping it into his private purse. 'Now, what's your
business?'
'The LASES to sign--the rent's all paid up.'
'Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?'
'It was, PLASE your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little
place in his pocket.'
'Then I hope he'll keep it there. YOUR little place--it's no longer
yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a fool
as to renew to you at this rent.'
'Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour PLASES--anything at
all that we can pay.'
'Oh, it's out of the question--put it out of your head. No rent you can
offer would do, for I've promised it to the surveyor.'
'Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a
renewal, on the back of the OULD LASE.'
'Produce it.'
'Here's the LASE, but the promise is rubbed out.'
'Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll listen
to that in a court of justice, do you think?'
'I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and Miss
Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by when
my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301