‘I am sufficiently baptized with the water,’ said the helpless man...
‘Indeed, Mr. Amble,’ observed his spouse, ‘you can lecture a woman for not making the best of circumstances; I hope you’ll bear in mind that it’s you who are irreverent. I can endure this no longer. You deserve Mr. Pollingray’s ridicule.’
Upon this, I interposed: ‘Pray, ma’am, don’t imagine that you have anything but sympathy from me.’—but as I was protesting, having my mouth open, the terrible Miss Alice dragged the laughter remorselessly out of me.
They have been trying Frank’s new boat, Mr. Pollingray, and they’ve upset it. Oh! oh’ and again there was the woodpeckers’ chorus.
‘Alice, I desire you instantly to go and fetch John the gardener,’ said the angry mother.
‘Mama, I can’t move; wait a minute, only a minute. John’s gone about the geraniums. Oh! don’t look so resigned, papa; you’ll kill me! Mama, come and take my hand. Oh! oh!’
The young lady put her hands in against her waist and rolled her body like a possessed one.
‘Why don’t you come in through the boat-house?’ she asked when she had mastered her fit.
‘Ah!’ said the vicar. I beheld him struck by this new thought.
‘How utterly absurd you are, Mr. Amble!’ exclaimed his wife, ‘when you know that the boat-house is locked, and that the boat was lying under the camshot when you persuaded me to step into it.’