“Oh! just to give my testimony onto a certain matter in case of need. And I say I can’t give you any answer to your invitation until I see how things be gwine to turn out at the Hall!”
“Ah! how long will that be?” demanded Mrs. Legg.
“Maybe a few hours, if it don’t go into court; maybe a few centuries if it do. And in the last case, I sha’n’t be here so long.”
“Uncle Dandy, you speak in riddles.”
“I must do that at the present moment, my dear. But in a few hours, or a few centuries, if you haven’t guessed them in that time, I will give you the answers to them riddles.”
“Uncle Andrew, we thought by your sending a telegram to us to ‘come at once,’ that you were very ill.”
“Well, my wench, I thank you and him for coming so very prompt. I do, indeed! So much prompter than I could expect! Really, I didn’t think you would get here until some time to-morrow. But I’m glad and thankful as you’re here to-night.”
“But you are not ill, Uncle Dandy. You are very well, thank the Lord!”
“I never said I was ill, Juley. I said I wasn’t able to travel. No more I ain’t. And no more I wasn’t. I’m a feeble old man, wench.”
“Tut! tut! ‘Feeble old man,’ indeed! You are a ‘fine old English gentleman,’ as the song says. And now you have come home to old England so well off and so well-looking you will be getting married and putting some blooming young aunt-in-law over our heads!”