“But, my dear old gov’nor,” said Tom, “this is all so very weak of you.”
“Well, it is, my boy.”
“You must pluck up, or we shall be ruined,” continued Tom, taking up a napkin and removing a little tomato sauce from his parent’s brow.
“No, my boy—no, my boy, don’t say that; but I can’t bear to ask her ladyship for money. It does make her so cross.”
“It isn’t pleasant,” said Tom; “but there, you go up in the drawing-room, and watch over Maude like a lion; I don’t want to see her made miserable.”
“I will, Tom, my boy, I will.”
“And I say, gov’nor, you will stick up?”
“Yes, Tom, my boy, yes,” said the old man. “There, you shall see. Going out?”
“Yes, gov’nor, I want to hunt out Charley Melton. I haven’t see him for an age. He’s always away somewhere.”
“Give my kind regards, Tom. He’s a fine fellow—Damme, I like Charley. But I’m afraid he thinks me very weak.”