Mrs. Thomson laid down the cup she was lifting to her mouth.
"I'm sure, Jessie," she said, "you're ill to please. Who'd ever mind a smell of cooking in the house? And a nice tasty smell like sausages, too."
"It's such a common sort of smell in the evening," went on Jessie. "I wish we had late dinner. The Simpsons have it, and Muriel says it makes you feel quite different; more refined."
"Muriel Simpson's daft," put in Alick; "Ewan says it's her that's put his mother up to send him to an English school. He doesn't want to be made English."
"It's to improve his accent," said Jessie. "Yours is something awful."
Alick laughed derisively and began to speak in a clipt and mincing fashion which he believed to be "English."
"Alick! Stop it," said his mother. "Don't aggravate your sister."
Jessie tossed her head.
"He's not aggravating me, he's only making a fool of himself."
"Papa," said Alick, appealing to his father, "sure the English are awful silly."