“Yes, brother Nicholas, it is; and I’m not sorry for it. Mr William Aveleyn, perhaps you’d like to wash your hands? A lad’s paws are never the worse for a little clean water.”
William Aveleyn blushed: his dignity was hurt: but he had lately been very intimate at Mr Forster’s, and he therefore walked out to comply with the recommendation.
“Well, brother Nicholas, what have you been doing all day?”
“Doing all day, brother? really, I don’t exactly know. My dear,” said Nicholas, turning to his wife, “what have I been doing all day?”
“To the best of my recollection,” replied Mrs Forster, smiling, “you have been asking when dinner would be ready.”
“Uncle Nicholas,” said Amber, “you promised to buy me a skein of blue silk.”
“Did I, my dear? Well, so I did, I declare. I’m very sorry—dear me, I forgot, I did buy it. I passed by a shop where the windows were full of it, and it brought it to my mind, and I did buy it. It cost—what was it, it cost?”
“Oh! I know what it cost,” replied Amber. “I gave you three-pence to pay for it. Where is it?”
“If I recollect, it cost seven shillings and six-pence,” replied Nicholas, pulling out, not a skein of blue silk, but a yard of blue sarsenet.
“Now, papa, do look here! Uncle Nicholas, I never will give you a commission again. Is it not provoking? I have seven shillings and six-pence to pay for a yard of blue sarsenet, which I do not want. Uncle Nicholas, you really are very stupid.”