"You want to go to sleep? Well you shall directly, but I want to say
just a word about next week and Christmas-Day."
"Well say away," I said very drowsily.
"Well, dear," said Mrs Scribe, "You see mamma's coming."
"Sorry to hear it," I said in an undertone.
"For shame," said Mrs S. "How can you talk in that way, when you know
what interest she takes in you, and how she praises all you write. No,
now, it isn't gammon, as you so politely call it. Well, and if she did
say you always introduced `the wife,' or `the missus,' so often, what
then? You would not have her flatter you, and say what she didn't mean,
would you now, dear?"
I couldn't help it, for the wind was easterly and I was very tired, so I
only said, "Bother!" But there, I dare not commit to paper all that was
said to me upon the subject. A word or two will suffice upon a matter
familiar to every Benedict.
"Ah, sir," said Mrs S, "you did not say `bother' after that walk when
we gathered cowslips, and I gave you leave to speak to mamma. What did
you say then?"
"Too long ago to recollect," I said.
"No it is not, sir. You said--"
"There, for goodness sake, don't be casting all one's follies in one's
teeth," I exclaimed.
"Well then, just listen quietly to what I was going to say about mamma
coming."
"Go on then."
"Now don't be a cross old goose, and--"
"Gander," I suggested.
"Now don't be so stupid and tiresome, dear, but just listen. Now, Mrs
Parabola's furniture is going to be sold to-morrow, and you'd better go
and pick up a few things."
"Pick up," I said, "why they won't let you have anything unless you pay
for it."
"Dear me, how exceedingly witty," said Mrs S. "Have you quite
finished, sir?"