'Why don't you speak like that in Parliament?' the old man interposed. 'Because Parliament isn't my brother,' replied Mr. Andrew. 'You know, Tom, you never quite took to my wife's family.' 'I'm not a match for fine ladies, Nan.' 'Well, Harriet would have taken to you, Tom, and will now, if you 'll let her. Of course, it 's a pity if she 's ashamed of--hem! You found it out about the Lymport people, Tom, and, you've kept the secret and respected her feelings, and I thank you for it. Women are odd in those things, you know. She mustn't imagine I 've heard a whisper. I believe it would kill her.' The old gentleman shook silently. 'Do you want me to travel over the kingdom, hawking her for the daughter of a marquis?' 'Now, don't joke, Tom. I'm serious. Are you not a Radical at heart? Why do you make such a set against the poor women? What do we spring from?' 'I take off my hat, Nan, when I see a cobbler's stall.' 'And I, Tom, don't care a rush who knows it. Homo--something; but we never had much schooling. We 've thriven, and should help those we can. We've got on in the world . . .' 'Wife come back from Lymport?' sneered Tom. Andrew hurriedly, and with some confusion, explained that she had not been able to go, on account of the child. 'Account of the child!' his brother repeated, working his chin contemptuously. 'Sisters gone?' 'They're stopping with us,' said Andrew, reddening. 'So the tailor was left to the kites and the crows. Ah! hum!' and Tom chuckled. 'You're angry with me, Tom, for coming here,' said Andrew. 'I see what it is. Thought how it would be! You're offended, old Tom.' 'Come where you like,' returned Tom, 'the place is open. It's a fool that hopes for peace anywhere. They sent a woman here to wait on me, this day month.' 'That's a shame!' said Mr. Andrew, propitiatingly. 'Well, never mind, Tom: the women are sometimes in the way.--Evan went down to bury his father. He's there now. You wouldn't see him when he was at the Brewery, Tom. He's--upon my honour! he's a good young fellow.' 'A fine young gentleman, I've no doubt, Nan.' 'A really good lad, Tom. No nonsense. I've come here to speak to you about him.' Mr. Andrew drew a letter from his pocket, pursuing: 'Just throw aside your prejudices, and read this. It's a letter I had from him this morning. But first I must tell you how the case stands.' 'Know more than you can tell me, Nan,' said Tom, turning over the flavour of a gulp of his wine. 'Well, then, just let me repeat it. He has been capitally educated; he has always been used to good society: well, we mustn't sneer at it: good society's better than bad, you'll allow. He has refined tastes: well, you wouldn't like to live among crossing-sweepers, Tom. He 's clever and accomplished, can speak and write in three languages: I wish I had his abilities. He has good manners: well, Tom, you know you like them as well as anybody. And now--but read for yourself.'