"Hush, my dear, don't you say another word. Cousin Ben is coming to take a little bit of lunch with us to-day."
"I know it," cried Mrs. Oakley, clapping her hands together with a vengeance that made Oakley jump again. "I know it. Oh, you wretch. You couldn't have put on such airs if your bully had not been coming; I thought the last time he came here was enough for him. Aye, and for you too, Mr. O."
"It was nearly too much," said the spectacle-maker, shaking his head.
"Tow row, row, row, row!" cried Big Ben, popping his head into the parlour, "what do you all bring it in now? Wilful murder with the chill off or what? Ah, mother Oakley, what's the price of vinegar now, wholesale—pluck does it. Here you is. Ha, ha! Aint we a united family. Couldn't stay away from you, Mother Oakley, no more nor I could from that ere laughing hyena we has in the Tower."
"Eugh!—wretch!"
"Sit down, Ben," said Mr. Oakley. "I am glad to see you, and I am quite sure Johanna is."
"Oh, yes, yes."
"That's it," said Ben. "It's on Johanna's account I came. Now, little one, just tell me—"
Johanna had just time to place her finger upon her lips, unobserved by any one, and shake her head at Ben.
"Ah—hem! How are you, eh?" he said, turning the conversation. "Come, Mother O., stir your old stumps and be alive, will you? I have come to lunch with your lord and master, so bustle—bustle."