"My dear—bah!" said the lady; "my dear! save that, Mr. Jipson, for some of your—a—a——"
What Mrs. J. might have said, we scarce could judge; but Jipson just then put in a "rejoinder" calculated to prevent the umpullaceous tone of Mrs. J.'s remarks, by saying, in a very humble strain—
"Mrs. Jipson, don't make an ass of yourself: we are too old to act like goslings, and too well acquainted, I hope, with the matters-of-fact of every-day life, to quarrel about things beyond our reach or control."
"If you talk of things beyond your control, Mr. Jipson, I mean beyond your reach, that your income will not permit us to live as other people live——"
"I wouldn't like to," interposed Jipson.
"What?" asked Mrs. Jipson.
"Live like other people—that is, some people, Mrs. Jipson, that I know of."
"You don't suppose I'm going to bury myself and my poor girls in this big house, and have those servants standing about me, their fingers in their mouths, with nothing to do but——"
"But what?"
"But cook, and worry, and slave, and keep shut up for a——"