‘Don’t you complain of the expense afterwards,’ said Mrs. Sliderskew, sulkily.
‘I am afraid we must live expensively for the first week,’ returned Arthur, with a groan, ‘and then we must make up for it. I won’t eat more than I can help, and I know you love your old master too much to eat more than you can help, don’t you, Peg?’
‘Don’t I what?’ said Peg.
‘Love your old master too much—’
‘No, not a bit too much,’ said Peg.
‘Oh, dear, I wish the devil had this woman!’ cried Arthur: ‘love him too much to eat more than you can help at his expense.’
‘At his what?’ said Peg.
‘Oh dear! she can never hear the most important word, and hears all the others!’ whined Gride. ‘At his expense—you catamaran!’
The last-mentioned tribute to the charms of Mrs. Sliderskew being uttered in a whisper, that lady assented to the general proposition by a harsh growl, which was accompanied by a ring at the street-door.
‘There’s the bell,’ said Arthur.