“It went to the cottage, dear lady. The 'Home' was a mill in those days.”
“Well, sir, it is no longer a mill, and it will soon cease to be an inn.”
“Indeed, dear lady! And am I to hope that I may congratulate such kind friends as you have ever been to me on a change of fortune?”
“Yes, sir; we have grown so poor that, to prevent utter destitution, we have determined to keep a private station; and with reference to that, may I ask you when this young gentleman could bear removal without injury?”
“I have not seen him to-day, dear lady; but judging from the inflammatory symptoms I remarked yesterday, and the great nervous depression—”
“I know nothing about medicine, sir; but if the nervous depression be indicated by a great appetite and a most noisy disposition, his case must be critical.”
“Noise, dear lady!”
“Yes, sir; assisted by your son, he sat over his wine till past midnight, talking extremely loudly, and occasionally singing. They have now been at breakfast since ten o'clock, and you will very soon be able to judge by your own ears of the well-regulated pitch of the conversation.”
“My son, Miss Dinah! Tom Dill at breakfast here?”
“I don't know whether his name be Tom or Harry, sir, nor is it to the purpose; but he is a red-haired youth, with a stoop in the shoulders, and a much-abused cap.”