MILLIKEN.—Why was the carriage not sent for me, Howell? There was no cab at the station, and I have had to toil all the way up the hill with these confounded parcels of my lady's.
JOHN.—I suppose the shower took off all the cabs, sir. When DID a man ever git a cab in a shower?—or a policeman at a pinch—or a friend when you wanted him—or anything at the right time, sir?
MILLIKEN.—But, sir, why didn't the carriage come, I say?
JOHN.—YOU know.
MILLIKEN.—How do you mean I know? confound your impudence!
JOHN.—Lady Kicklebury took it—your mother-in-law took it—went out a-visiting—Ham Common, Petersham, Twick'nam—doose knows where. She, and her footman, and her span'l dog.
MILLIKEN.—Well, sir, suppose her ladyship DID take the carriage? Hasn't she a perfect right? And if the carriage was gone, I want to know, John, why the devil the pony-chaise wasn't sent with the groom? Am I to bring a bonnet-box and a hamper of fish in my own hands, I should like to know?
JOHN.—Heh! [laughs.]
MILLIKEN.—Why do you grin, you Cheshire cat?
JOHN.—Your mother-in-law had the carriage; and your mother sent for the pony-chaise. Your Pa wanted to go and see the Wicar of Putney. Mr. Bonnington don't like walking when he can ride.