'You'll rub all the skin off your face, if you rub like that.'
'It's a playing a man false,' continues Jim Naldret, not to be diverted from the subject, 'that's what it is. It's a----'
'Is George coming home to tea, do you know, father?' asks Mrs. Naldret, endeavouring to stem the torrent.
'No; he told me we wasn't to wait for him. It's a trading under false pretences----'
'Not coming home to tea! And here I've been laying the tablecloth for him, because I know he enjoys his tea better when there's something white on the table. Mind you remember that, Bessie. There's nothing like studying a man's little ways, if you want to live happy with him.'
'I wondered what the tablecloth was on for,' remarks Jim Naldret; and then resumes with bulldog tenacity, 'It's a trading under false pretences, that's what it is! Little weaknesses! Why----'
'Now, father, will you come and have tea?'
'Now, mother, will you learn manners, and not interrupt? But I can have my tea and talk too.'
Mrs. Naldret makes a great fuss in setting chairs, and a great clatter with the cups and saucers, but her wiles produce not the slightest effect on her husband, who seats himself, and says,
'Well, this is my opinion, and I wouldn't mind a-telling of it to the Queen. What do girls look forward to naturally? Why, matrimony to be sure----'