“Well, then, go and see.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The impatience of Mrs Plausible, during the absence of Thomas, increased with the repetition of the knocks.
“Well, Thomas?” said she, as the footman entered. “If you please, ma’am, Mr Feasible has got a conwersation—that’s all.”
“Got a what?”
“A conversazione he means, my dear. It’s very strange that Mr Feasible should pretend to give such a thing!”
“I think so too,” replied the lady. “He keeps no carriage. What can be his inducement!”
“I perceive,” replied Dr Plausible, “he wants to get practice. Depend upon it that’s his plan. A sprat to catch a mackerel!”
Husband and wife were again silent, and resumed their occupations; but the Lancet was not read, and the knotting was all in knots, for they were both in a brown study. At last Mrs Plausible commenced—
“I really do not see, my dear, why we should not give a conversazione as well as Dr Feasible?”