"I was comfortable till you came." Alison snapped.
"Pray, mother Weston," says Harry, "forgive our public caresses. We have not long been married."
Alison looked ice at him. "Weston dear, would you leave us? I have something to say to Harry." Harry opened his eyes. Mrs. Weston looked at her anxiously, bade them a nervous good-night, and hurried out.
"Harry—who was your mother?" Alison stood stern over the lolling husband.
"Egad, what's this? Have you been brooding over your bony friend?
Who is she?"
"She says she is your father's wife; and says he left her."
"Well, if she is his wife, I wager he did leave her. Faith, she was made to be deserted."
"What do you know of her?"
"Nothing, by the grace of God. Why should I? If my father got drunk and married her, he would not want to talk about it when he was sober."
"I despise you when you talk so," Alison cried.