“That’s varry likely, and if so, they won’t go back to London until December. So there’s no need for thee to worry thysen about December. It’s only June yet, tha knows.”
“Will tha lose money by selling thy seat?”
“Not I! I rayther think I’ll make money. And I’ll save a bag of sovereigns. London expenses hes been the varry item that hes kept us poor,—that is, poorer than we ought to be. There now! That will do about London. I am a bit tired of London. I hear Dick and Kitty’s voices, and there’s music in them. O God, what a grand thing it is to be young!”
“I must order fresh tea for them, they are sure to be hungry.”
“Not they! There’s no complaining in their voices. Listen how gayly Dick laughs. And I know Kitty is snuggling up to him, and saying some loving thing or ither. Bless the children! It would be a dull house wanting them.”
“Antony!”
“So it would, Annie, and thou knows it. Hev some fresh food brought for them. Here they are!” And the squire rose to meet them, taking Kitty within his arm, and giving his hand to Dick.
“Runaways!” he said. “Whativer kept you from your eating? Mother hes ordered some fresh victuals. They’ll be here anon.”
“We have had our tea, mother—such a merry meal!”
“Wheriver then?