The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. "Every honest man, Sir! He helps us to our own again. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning. I may prevail upon them to take you in until you are full-fledged, providing you do not find this aunt. ‘Never would he have gone to England. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked.
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