"How well Tom sits a horse!" continued Mrs. Pynsent, who could not withdraw her eyes, or mind, from one object, for a moment. "There he goes, neck or nothing!"
Mr. Pynsent reminded his lady that Anna Maria was in the drawing-room, and that she had scarcely welcomed her. Mrs. Pynsent snapped her fingers.
"Tom is my son, and I'll attend to no one till he returns. Pen is with the young woman. I won't stir till Tom comes back. If the young woman loved Tom as I love him, she would be watching him in his delight there, looking so handsome and happy! I don't like her for leaving Tom!"
Mrs. Hancock was quite of her opinion, and Mrs. Pynsent was softened by her coalition.
"Sally Hancock, you shall dine here, to-day, if you will promise to be quiet."
"Now, Pen, what do I ever say?"
"I am afraid of you, Sally Hancock. You know Tom and Bob won't bear your remarks. You know you never were fit for ladies' society, after you married that Hancock."
"What was the matter with Hancock, except he was tipsy or angry, Pen?"
"Will you promise to be quiet, if I ask you to stay dinner, Sally Hancock?"