Mrs. P. "Could you give me a glass of water first—and perhaps a little sherry in it, please. Oh, thank you. How good it is! How it revives a poor old wretch!—And your cough, Bedford? How is your cough? I have brought you some lozenges for it—some of Sir Henry Halford's own prescribing for my dear husband, and"
Bedford (abruptly). "I must go—never mind the cough now, Mrs. P."
Mrs. Prior. "What's here? almonds and raisins, macaroons, preserved apricots, biscuits for dessert—and—la bless the man! how you sta—artled me!"
Bedford. "Dont! Mrs. Prior: I beg and implore of you, keep your 'ands out of the dessert. I can't stand it. I must tell the governor if this game goes on."
Mrs. P. "Ah! Mr. Bedford, it is for my poor—poor child at home: the doctor recommended her apricots. Ay, indeed, dear Bedford; he did, for her poor chest!"
Bedford. "And I'm blest if you haven't been at the sherry-bottle again! Oh, Mrs. P., you drive me wild—you do. I can't see Lovel put upon in this way. You know it's only last week I whopped the boy for stealing the sherry, and 'twas you done it."
Mrs. Prior (passionately). "For a sick child, Bedford. What won't a mother do for her sick child!"
Bedford. "Your children's always sick. You're always taking things for 'em. I tell you, by the laws, I won't and mustn't stand it, Mrs. P."
Mrs. Prior (with much spirit). "Go and tell your master, Bedford! Go and tell tales of me, sir. Go and have me dismissed out of this house. Go and have my daughter dismissed out of this house, and her poor mother brought to disgrace."
Bedford. "Mrs. Prior—Mrs. Prior! you have been a-taking the sherry. A glass I don't mind: but you've been a-bringing that bottle again."
Mrs. P. (whimpering). "It's for Charlotte, Bedford! my poor delicate angel of a Shatty! she's ordered it, indeed she is!"
Bedford. "Confound your Shatty! I can't stand it, I mustn't, and won't, Mrs. P!"
Here a noise and clatter of other persons arriving interrupted the conversation between Lovel's major-domo and the mother of the children's governess, and I presently heard master Pop's voice saying, "You're going to tea with us, Mrs. Prior?"
Mrs. P. "Your kind dear grandmammas have asked me, dear Master Popham."
Pop. "But you'd like to go to dinner best, wouldn't you? I daresay you have doocid bad dinners at your house. Haven't you, Mrs. Prior?"
Cissy. "Don't say doocid. Its a naughty word, Popham!"
Pop. "I will say doocid. Doo-oo-oocid! There! And I'll say worse words too, if I please, and you hold your tongue. What's there for tea? jam for tea? strawberries for tea? muffins for tea? That's it: straw-
