"
"What in the world is that?" said I.
"Oh, _Kooshti duvvel_!" she exclaimed. "You don't know nothin';
you're what they calls a _rye_, ain't you?"
"Pray, what is a rye?" I enquired, a little diffidently.
"A _gorgio_ gentleman," she explained patiently.
"What should give you that impression?"
"You're s' different to the 'Folk'--or any of the padding kind."
"Yes, I suppose I am--despite my clothes!"
"Your speech is soft an' your ways are softer, but you have a high an'
mighty look about ye at times--although you're so precious green."
"Green?"
"As grass!" she nodded, "Very green--like your name."
"My name is Peregrine, as you know."
"But t' other suits ye best!"
"You grow more unkind, Diana!"
"You're a scholar too, o' course?"
"I have received a somewhat careful education."
"What d'ye know?"
"Well, I am fairly conversant with Greek and Latin, though a trifle
shaky on the higher mathematics, I fear."
"You've read lots an' lots o' books?"
"I have."
"And you're nineteen years old?"
"True!"
"And such a very poor, helpless thing!" said she in lofty scorn. "Oh,
you may be able to teach me how t' speak an' how t' behave, but 'tis
me as could teach ye how to live without friends or money! You may
know how to use words but ye can't use your hands! You can talk but ye
can't 'do'--you don't know how to help yourself nor nobody else!
You're a poor creature as would creep into a wet ditch an' perish o'
want an' misery--an' all because you're so full o' Greek an' Latin an'
fine airs that you can't even tell how many beans make five!" Having
said which, all in a breath, she turned and, mounting the ladder, left
me staring vacantly at the crumbling wall and greatly humbled since
all these indictments I knew for very truth.
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