“But you are not ill, John? There is nothing wrong, I hope?”
“If things go a bit out of the common way, women always ask if they have gone wrong. I should think, they might as well go right.”
“So they might. Here is some fresh cream, John. I saw after it myself; and the haver-cake is toasted, and–”
“Nay, but I’ll have my drinking to-night, Maude. I have been flustered more than a little, I can tell thee that.”
“Then you shall have your drinking. We tapped a fresh barrel of old ale an hour ago. It is that strong and fine as never was; by the time you get to your third pint, you will be ready to make faces at Goliath.”
“Well, Maude, if making faces means making fight, there will be enough of that in every county of England soon,–if Dukes and Radical orators are to be believed.”
“Have you seen the Duke to-night?”
“I have. He has offered me a seat in the next Parliament. He thinks there is a big fight before us.”
“Parliament! And the Duke of Richmoor to seat you! Why, John, I am astonished!”
“I felt like I was dreaming. Now then, where is Kate? I want to tell the little maid about it. It will be a grand thing for Kate. She will have some chances in London, and I’ll warrant she is Yorkshire enough to take the best of them.”