In his expansion, he gave himself the airs of a host. "I hope," he said, "I've served you all to your likings? Miss Parkinson, you're not getting on; allow me to offer you a little more pork."
"Thank you, Mr. Tweddle," said the implacable Bella, "but I won't trouble you. I haven't an appetite to-day—like I had at those gardens."
There was a challenge in this answer—not only to him, but to general curiosity—which, to her evident disappointment, was not taken up.
Leander turned to Jauncy. "I—I suppose you had no trouble in finding your way here?" he said.
"No," said Jauncy, "not more than usual; the streets were pretty full, and that makes it harder to get along."
"We met such quantities of soldiers," put in Bella. "Do you remember those two soldiers at Rosherwich, Mr. Tweddle? How funny they did look, dancing; didn't they? But I suppose I mustn't say anything about the dancing here, must I?"
"Since," said the poor badgered man, "you put it to me, Miss Parkinson, I must say that, considering the day, you know——"
"Yes," continued Mrs. Collum, severely; "surely there are better topics for the Sabbath than—than a dancing soldier!"
"Mr. Tweddle knows why I stopped myself," said Bella. "But there, I won't tell of you—not now, at all events; so don't look like that at me!"
"There, Bella, that'll do," said her fiancé, suddenly awakening to the fact that she was trying to make herself disagreeable, and perhaps feeling slightly ashamed of her.