And it mattered little what topic was broached, Mistress H. always had a very long oration ready at her finger-tips for the occasion, and backed up all arguments or assertions with an everlasting appeal to “the Haylarks,” whether living or defunct.
Sir Richard became used to her loquacity, but frequently dozed in his arm-chair, and, falling fast asleep, ignominiously left the field of debate to herself, or to any one courageous enough to take up the cudgel and defy “the Haylarks,” constant and only authority on all subjects.
Dame Worthington’s house never flourished so much as it had since the wedding; and the old lady, it must be confessed, was “saving money.”
She had always contrived to do that, however.
So that now, although “times were hard,” and “money very tight,” as it always is, the old gentlewoman was laying by a considerable sum, and seemed to take much delight in saving or accumulating every spare penny.
But if prosperity had attended all the industrious efforts of the good old lady, and her newly-married “children,” as she affectionately termed them, there were other persons who figure in our story who had little of which to boast of in that particular.
Sir Andrew’s farming operations in the country were productive of little profit.
And he foresaw that ere long he must seek some other sphere than that of agriculture in which to make sufficient to satisfy his wants and daily growing greed.
One would have imagined that such misfortunes as he had experienced might have allayed his ruling passion for money; yet it did not.