"Yes, she knows that, but she says she can't help herself."
"I never met such people before!" said Charles, addressing a jade dragon on the mantelpiece—"I mean," he said, putting his hands in his trousers' pockets and addressing his boots, "such a person as Susannah."
"Her mother ran away with her father," murmured Fanny in extenuation, "so I suppose it is in the blood. But I wish we could do something with James. If he would even go to bed, but he sits by the kitchen fire crying, and that sets Susannah off. She will be ill for days after this. He said it was a cigar some one gave him that reminded him of his better days——"
"Bother his better days!"
"——and he went to try and drown the recollection of them. It is so stupid of him, he knows how drink flies to his head; you would never imagine if you could see him now that he has only had two glasses of beer."
"I will go down to the kitchen and speak to him," said Charles.
"But, Cousin Charles," said Fanny, plucking at his coat, "be sure and speak gently."
"I will," said Mr Bevan.
"Then I'll go with you," said she.
James, a long ill-weedy looking man, was seated before the kitchen fire on a chair without a back; Susannah, on hearing their footsteps, darted into the scullery.