“Should you take me for a gentleman, ma’am?”
“I dare say you are, sir, at heart. Not from your manner of speech.”
“I mean appearances, ma’am.”
“I judge by the disposition.”
“You do, ma’am? Then, deuce take it, if you are a woman, you’re ——” Old Tom had no time to conclude.
A great noise of wheels, and a horn blown, caused them both to turn their heads, and they beheld a curricle descending upon them vehemently, and a fashionably attired young gentleman straining with all his might at the reins. The next instant they were rolling on the bank. About twenty yards ahead the curricle was halted and turned about to see the extent of the mischief done.
“Pardon, a thousand times, my worthy couple,” cried the sonorous Mr. Raikes. “What we have seen we swear not to divulge. Franco and Fred—your pledge!”
“We swear!” exclaimed this couple.
But suddenly the cheeks of Mr. John Raikes flushed. He alighted from the box, and rushing up to Old Tom, was shouting, “My bene—”
“Do you want my toe on your plate?” Old Tom stopped him with.