MRS. RICCABOCCA (mildly).—“The shirts, to be sure, my love! And you?”
THE DOCTOR (with a heavy sigh).—“The feelings, ma’am!” Then, after a pause, taking his wife’s hand affectionately, “But you did quite right to think of the shirts: Mr. Dale said very truly—”
MRS. RICCABOCCA.—“What?”
THE DOCTOR.—“That there was a great deal in common between us—even when I think of feelings, and you but of—shirts!”
CHAPTER XXIII.
Mr. and Mrs. Avenel sat within the parlour, Mr. Richard stood on the hearthrug, whistling “Yankee Doodle.” “The parson writes word that the lad will come to-day,” said Richard, suddenly; “let me see the letter,—ay, to-day. If he took the coach as far as ———-, he might walk the rest of the way in two or three hours. He should be pretty nearly here. I have a great mind to go and meet him: it will save his asking questions, and hearing about me. I can clear the town by the back way, and get out at the high road.”
“You’ll not know him from any one else,” said Mrs. Avenel.
“Well, that is a good one! Not know an Avenel! We’ve all the same cut of the jib,—have we not, Father?”
Poor John laughed heartily, till the tears rolled down his cheeks.