"Yes, mignonne, a thousand times more good. I have rough lads enough about me all day long, poulet."
"There are plenty of people," continued she, "who take notice of the boys. All my uncles and aunts seem to think their nephews better than their nieces, and when gentlemen come here to dine, it is always Matthew, and Mark, and Martin that are talked to, and never Rose and me. Mr. Moore is _our_ friend, and we'll keep him.--But mind, Rose, he's not so much your friend as he is mine. He is my _particular acquaintance_; remember that!" And she held up her small hand with an admonitory gesture.

There are plenty of people who take notice of the boys. When gentlemen come here to dine, it is always the boys that are talked to, and never Rose and me. Mr. Moore is our friend. But mind, Rose, he's not so much your friend as he is mine. Remember that!" And she held up her small hand with a warning gesture.
