CHAPTER IV.
A FAIR PARLIAMENT.
The next morning, when Mr. Tremain sauntered down the broad stairs, that gave upon the inner hall, he found that favourite place of resort already occupied, and about twenty tongues were going at full gallop, every one talking, no one listening, while far above the well-bred clamour, rose Dick Darling's high-pitched treble.
"I say we must; oh, what a most too unutterably utter lark! Esther, you are a trump, you are a saint, you are a double-distilled daisy, and you deserve to have a free-actioned, high-stepping trotter, and a skeleton selfish waggon, for your very, very own!"
"You are very kind, Dick," and this time it was Mrs. Newbold's voice, "but indeed, I don't want a reward of merit of that description, I fail to appreciate it, my dear. A nasty little abominable trotting waggon, all bones and ribs, and no flesh, and a monstrosity of a horse that would drag my arms from their sockets and me over its head before I could say——"
"Jack Robinson," broke in the irrepressible Dick, "though why one is always supposed to invoke that mythical personage, in times of surprise, it is beyond me to explain. However, you are about right, Esther, for now I come to think of it, what would you do with your legs?"
"Oh, Dick, you are really too hopelessly vulgar," cried out a chorus of voices, to which Miss Darling not a whit abashed, replied:
"Well, and what would you have me call them?"
"You might say pedal extremities," remarked Miss James, to which brilliant suggestion Dick vouchsafed no further reply than a pronounced sniff and shrug of her shoulders.