and plum-pudding, washed down with a quart o’ Bass’s strong Burton ale.’
‘Poor man!’ exclaimed Mr Bristley, ‘what a wreck he must be, and what a lot of nursing he must want! I suppose the doctor insists upon that diet for him?’
‘Well, no, sir; he don’t see no doctor, says she; he says he must keep his money for medicine—that is, beer. He says it’s the only thing for decline.’
‘Really! He is in a decline, then?’
‘Yessir, decline and fall of the sheer yellow leaf, he calls it.’
‘Oh, I see. Very well, Mrs Fenrake, we'll spare you for a week, and I hope your presence will cheer the bicycling invalid.’
‘Thank you kindly, sir,’ answered the housekeeper; ‘that’s just what Lucy says, cheer the invalid as has always got the sore of dammyplease a-hanging over his ’ead. Though, says she, for the matter o’ that, he’s cheerful enough when he’s got his beer down; then he looks quite resigned and ready to go, and says he don’t hate nobody nor nothink in the world excep teetotallers and cold water.’
These little incidents gave a turn to their thoughts, and the four went out in good spirits. Mrs Newman that evening did as she was advised, and the next day felt decidedly better than she had been for some time. ‘The topic of dreams was tabooed, none of the family, even in Mrs Newman’s absence, feeling inclined to recur to it at present.
