"What the devil are you all roaring at? Moll, what's the matter?" called out Tom Pynsent.
"Pa, Bab pulled Tom's hair!" screamed Miss Mary, alias Moll; Mrs. Pynsent's words now became confounded with those of her son.
"What the devil!—don't fight there, you rascals!—Hand out Bill, James; they'll kill that poor Bill.—Here, Tom, never mind your hair: bring some cakes here, Dick, to stop this row.—Hand out that Bill thing, Thomas, he's on his head.—They're murdering Bill!"
"I declare my children will fight themselves to death," said Anna Maria, who took no part in the affair, "I am sure they will kill each other. Tom, dear, don't let the children fight so."
Mr. Boscawen took advantage of the moment when the carriage was emptied of its noisy contents, and hurried Christobelle into it. She was too willing to quit the uproar of Hatton not to rejoice at his polite movement, and both were glad to remain silent for some time after they had quitted its grounds.
"I fancied," said Mr. Boscawen, after a long pause, "that Isabel spoiled her children, till I have now compared them with their cousins. I shall remain satisfied in future that they are not more vivacious than healthy children should be."
"It is altogether a different form of government at Brierly. You are monarch, though an indulgent one; but it is a frightful democracy at Hatton."
"I shall keep my young ones out of the infection," he observed; "for though Mary and Barbara may have hearts as kindly affectioned as their grandmother, those manners are deplorable. I should be sorry to see my little Bell become coarse and loud in her way of speaking."
"What could be the cause of the Miss Wycherlys imbibing such manners, in the first instance?" asked Christobelle.
"Old Wycherly was a broker," replied Boscawen; "and he retired to Lidham with an immense fortune, and a young wife whose connections were far superior to his own. Mrs. Wycherly did not live many years, and the daughters were allowed to educate themselves, and to act, in every respect, as seemed good in their own eyes. They were always the subject of conversation; and, though they never were suspected of any thing more reprehensible than extreme wildness, their conduct subjected them to many extraordinary scenes, and much objectionable remark. Captain Hancock drank, I believe, to drown care, and Mrs. Hancock was infinitely the worst of the two. How the young ladies learned their swearing propensities, I cannot tell; but I have heard that their brother Wycherly led them into very exceptionable society in his youthful days. They were an extraordinary trio. No one, however, spoke ill of them."