“I can come and share Louisa’s room, mamma,” says Bessy. “It will not be proper for me to stay here at all—until afterwards, you know. Or I can go to my uncle at St. Boniface. Don’t you think that will be best, eh, Frederick?”
“Whatever you wish, my dear Lizzy!” says Lovel.
“And I daresay there will be some little alterations made in the house. You talked, you know, of painting, Mr. Lovel; and the children can go to their grandmamma Bonnington. And on our return when the alterations are made we shall always be delighted to see you, Mr. Batchelor—our kindest old friend. Shall we not, a—Frederick?”
“Always, always,” said Frederick.
“Come, children, come to your teas,” calls out Mrs. P., in a resolute voice.
“Dear Pop, I’m not going away—that is, only for a few days, dear,” says Bessy, kissing the boy; “and you will love me, won’t you?”
“All right,” says the boy. But Cissy said, when the same appeal was made to her: “I shall love my dear mamma!” and makes her new mother-in-law a very polite curtsey.
“I think you had better put off those men you expect to dinner to-morrow, Fred?” I say to Lovel.
“I think I had, Batch,” says the gentleman.
“Or you can dine with them at the club, you know?” remarks Elizabeth.