"Just one," said John, "Why?"
"What time does the stage go to Exeter?"
"Three, I believe."
"Believe! don't you know?"
"Yes, I know it goes at three."
"Well, go and order it here at our door by that time. Rose shall go back to old Bond this very day; I won't stand it."
"Is the baby well enough?" asked John, not looking for this painful termination to his little bit of connubial fun.
"I don't care whether it is or not; if you don't get that stage, I will."
"I'll get it," said John, "but—"