"And the gig of course," said Fred.
"Of course; for what is life if one doesn't enjoy it?" said I.
"Very true, love. And the stable-bucket," continued Fred.
"Just as you please, dear," said I; "but certainly the hall-lamp."—
"Yes: and if we could only get—no, but that's too much to expect," said Fred.
"What's too much?" I asked; for Fred's manner quite excited me.
"Why, I was thinking, if we could get your great aunt merely to die, we might turn out a very pretty hatchment."—
"Now, Frederick!"—for this was going too far.
"I assure you, my love"—said Fred—"'twould give us a great lift in the neighbourhood: and as you say, what's existence without enjoying it?—What's life without paint?"
"Well, but"—for he hadn't told me—"but your descent, love? Is it so very historical?"