‘Where, indeed!’ said Mrs. Chikno; ‘I don’t know; he who countenances him in the roving line can best answer.’
‘He will be here anon,’ said Mr. Petulengro; ‘he has merely ridden down a by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt, she heard me give him directions, but she can’t be satisfied.’
‘I can’t, indeed,’ said Mrs. Chikno.
‘And why not, sister?’
‘Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said before, you countenances him.’
‘Well,’ said I, ‘I know nothing of your private concerns; I am come on an errand. Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro’s company at breakfast. She will be happy also to see you, madam,’ said I, addressing Mrs. Chikno.
‘Is that young female your wife, young man?’ said Mrs. Chikno.
‘My wife?’ said I.
‘Yes, young man, your wife, your lawful, certificated wife.’
‘No,’ said I, ‘she is not my wife.’