And just as I had
got to the bottom of the stairs, and was a-going into my poor dear
mistress's room, said you (I never shall forget it), said you, "Honey,
honey, nurse." She thought it were honey, sir. So you see she were
always very fond of honey (for I knew this young lady long before you
did, sir).'
'Are you quite sure of that, nurse?' said Miss Dacre; 'I think this is
an older friend than you imagine. You remember the little Duke; do not
you? This is the little Duke. Do you think he has grown?'
'Now! bless my life! is it so indeed? Well, be sure, he has grown. I
always thought he would turn out well, Miss, though Dr. Pretyman were
always a-preaching, and talking his prophecycations. I always thought he
would turn out well at last. Bless me! how he has grown, indeed! Perhaps
he grows too fast, and that makes him weak. Nothing better than a glass
of ale for weak people. I remember when Dr. Pretyman ordered it for my
poor dear mistress. "Give her ale," said the Doctor, "as strong as it
can be brewed;" and sure enough, my poor dear master had it brewed! Have
you done growing, sir? You was ever a troublesome child.
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