Parson dreamily, for he is relapsing fast into his interrupted reverie;—"Ay—ay—I daresay."
Mrs Dale.—"And she must have saved! I dare say it is nearly £6000 by this time;—eh! Charles dear, you really are so—good gracious, what's that!"
As Mrs Dale made this exclamation, they had just emerged from the shrubbery, into the village green.
Parson.—"What's what?"
Mrs Dale pinching her husband's arm very nippingly.—"That thing—there—there."
Parson.—"Only the new stocks, Carry; I don't wonder they frighten you, for you are a very sensible woman. I only wish they would frighten the Squire."
CHAPTER XIII.
Supposed to be a letter from Mrs Hazeldean to——Riccabocca, Esq., The Casino; but edited, and indeed composed, by Miss Jemima Hazeldean.
"Dear Sir,—To a feeling heart it must always be painful to give pain to another, and (though I am sure unconsciously) you have given the greatest pain to poor Mr Hazeldean and myself, indeed to all our little circle, in so cruelly refusing our attempts to become better acquainted with a gentleman we so highly ESTEEM. Do, pray, dear sir, make us the amende honorable, and give us the pleasure of your company for a few days at the Hall! May we expect you Saturday next?—our dinner hour is six o'clock.
"With the best compliments of Mr and Miss Jemima Hazeldean,