was never seen nothing of any more. It was a deal talked of at the time—and I've sat by; and my father used to shake his head; and always when this Mrs Transome was talked of, he used to shake his head, and say she carried things with a high hand once. But, Lord! it was before the battle of Waterloo, and I'm a poor hand at tales; I don't see much good in 'em myself—but if anybody'll tell me a cure for the sheep-rot I'll thank him."
Here Mr Crowder relapsed into smoking and silence, a little discomfited that the knowledge of which he had been delivered, had turned out rather a shapeless and insignificant birth.
"Well, well, bygones should be bygones; there are secrets in most good families," said Mr Scales, winking, "and this young Transome, coming back with a fortune to keep up the establishment, and have things done in a decent and gentlemanly way—it would all have been right if he'd not been this sort of Radical madman. But now he's done for himself. I heard Sir Maximus say at dinner that he would be excommunicated; and that's a pretty strong word, I take it."
"What does it mean. Scales?" said Mr Christian, who loved tormenting.
"Ay, what's the meaning?" insisted Mr Crowder,
