“Come and kiss Pa, Johnny,” said she to the infant. “Mrs. Poole, I am busy,” growled Pa.
“Pa’s busy—working hard for little Johnny. Johnny will be better for it some day,” said Mrs. Poole, tossing the infant half up to the ceiling, in compensation for the loss of the paternal kiss.
“Mrs. Poole, what do you want?”
“May I hire Jones’s brougham for two hours to-day, to pay visits? There are a great many cards we ought to leave; is there any place where I should leave a card for you, lovey—any person of consequence you were introduced to at Mrs. Haughton’s last night? That great man they were all talking about, to whom you seemed to take such a fancy, Samuel, duck—”
“Do get out! that man insulted me, I tell you.”
“Insulted you! No; you never told me.”
“I did tell you last night coming home.”
“Dear me, I thought you meant that Mr. Hartopp.”
“Well, he almost insulted me, too. Mrs. Poole, you are stupid and disagreeable. Is that all you have to say?”
“Pa’s cross, Johnny dear! poor Pa!—people have vexed Pa, Johnny—naughty people. We must go or we shall vex him too.”