[_Slapping him on the back._] I'll teach you during my stay at the Deanery. THE DEAN. [_Helplessly to himself._] Then he's staying with me! SIR TRISTRAM. Good-night, George. GEORGIANA. Good-night, partner. Heaven bless the little innocent in his cot. [_SIR TRISTRAM goes out with BLORE._ GEORGIANA. [_Calling after him._] Tris! You may take your pipe up with you. We smoke all over the Deanery. THE DEAN. [_To himself._] I never smoke! Does _she?_ GEORGIANA. [_Closes the door, humming a tune merrily._] Tra la, tra la! Now, Mr. Tidd, we'll toddle. Tra la! tra la! [_She stops, looking at THE DEAN, who is muttering to himself._] Gus, I don't like your looks, I shall let the Vet see you in the morning. What's wrong with you? [_THE DEAN shakes his head mournfully, and sinks on the settee._ GEORGIANA. Money? THE DEAN. There _are_ bills, which, at a more convenient time, it will be my grateful duty to discharge. GEORGIANA. And you're short? THE DEAN. Short? GEORGIANA. Stumped--out of coin--run low. What'll square the bills? THE DEAN. Very little would settle the bills--but--but---- GEORGIANA. I know--the Spire. Why, Gus, you haven't got that thousand. THE DEAN. There is a very large number of estimable worthy men who do not possess a thousand pounds. With that number I have the mournful pleasure of enrolling myself. GEORGIANA. When's the settling day? THE DEAN. Eh? GEORGIANA. When will you have to fork out? THE DEAN. Unless the restoration is immediately commenced the spire will certainly crumble. GEORGIANA. Then it's a match between you and the spire which parts first. Gus, will you let your little sister lend you a hand? THE DEAN. My dear Georgiana, impossible! GEORGIANA. No, no--not out of my own pocket. Come here. [_She takes his arm and whispers in his ear._] Can you squeeze a pair of ponies? THE DEAN. Can I what? GEORGIANA. Can you raise fifty pounds? THE DEAN. Certainly. More than fifty pounds. GEORGIANA. No--no, don't be rash! That's the worst of you beginners. Only fifty by to-morrow morning. THE DEAN. Most assuredly. GEORGIANA. Very well then--clap it on to Dandy Dick! THE DEAN. [_With horror._] What! GEORGIANA. He's a certainty--if those two buckets of water haven't put him off it! He's a moral--if he doesn't think of his tail coming down the hill. There's nothing like him at the weight. Keep it dark, Gus--don't breathe a word to any of your Canons or Archdeacons, or they'll rush at it and shorten the price for us. Go in, Gus, my boy--take your poor widowed sister's tip and sleep as peacefully as a blessed baby! [_She presses him warmly to her and kisses him._ THE DEAN. [_Extricating himself._] Oh! Mrs. Tidman! Go to your room! GEORGIANA. Augustin! THE DEAN. In the morning I will endeavor to frame some verbal expression of the horror with which I regard your proposal. For the present, you are my parents' child and I trust your bed is well aired. GEORGIANA.