Galloping Dick
“And I,” I said, “would bleed ’em out of theirs.”
“What a tongue you wag, for sure,” said she archly. “I fear, Ryder, you would take me by storm.”
“I would take you, an’ the parson had hummed upon us,” says I.
“How you clatter about this parson!” says she querulously. “There’s better things than church and parson.”
“Why, as for them,” I said, “maybe I do not reckon so much upon them myself.”
“Well?” says she smiling, holding me and as it were inviting me with her eyes. What was for coming I know not, for my head was dizzy, but just then enters, pat upon us, that nidgett, Sir Charles, tripping over his toasting-iron as he comes in.
“What! is’t you, Sir Charles?” cries her ladyship, while I stood frowning at this spoil-sport, and he staring at me. Then, “But you know my dear Ryder,” says she gaily. “Faith, you interrupt us in our bridal rehearsal.”
The Mawkin stared at me, blinking his eyes,
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