“The Thorn Inn,” said Mrs. Church, impatiently.
“Where is it?” enquired Captain Barber, ingenuously.
Mrs. Church looked at him with deep consideration. “Why, at the end of the cottages, opposite the ‘Swan.”
“What ‘Swan’?” enquired Captain Barber.
“The Swan Inn,” said Mrs. Church, restraining her temper, but with difficulty.
“Where is it?” said Uncle Barber, with breezy freshness.
“Opposite the ‘Thorn,’ at the end of the row,” said Mrs. Church, slowly.
“Well, what about it?” enquired Captain Barber.
“Nothing,” said Mrs. Church, sharply, and proceeded to set supper.
Captain Barber, hugging himself over his scheme, watched her eagerly, evincing a little bewilderment as she brought on a small, unappetizing rind of cheese, bread, two glasses, and a jug of water. He checked himself just in time from asking for the cold fowl and bacon left from dinner, and, drawing his chair to the table, eyed the contents closely.