“Yes, uncle, you did,” said Dean; “but—”
“What, sir? Are you siding with Mark, and going to accuse your uncle of being an eavesdropper?”
“No, uncle, but—”
“Hang your buts, you impudent young dog! But—but—”
“You said hang buts, uncle.”
“Bah! Pooh! Well, really, doctor, I suppose I ought to have spoken when I woke up, and put you all on your guard in case you might have— Here, what does the old proverb say? ‘Listeners never hear any good of themselves.’ Of course you might have said—you, Mark, boy, I mean—said that I was a stingy old fellow and didn’t allow you enough pocket money.”
“Well, I don’t think you do, father,” cried Mark; “but I shouldn’t have said so.”
“Good boy! But I do allow you, sir, twice as much as my father used to allow me when I was your age. And then Dean might have followed it up by talking about my temper.”
“I shouldn’t, uncle.”
“Ah, I don’t know, sir. I am what Mrs Blinks calls a bit trying when my gout’s bad. And then I might have heard the doctor say—oh, no, he would say nothing but what would come from a gentleman.”